Of Honeymoons and Jelly Doughnuts
by catherine ampere
Summary: Sequel to The Speech. After Jimmy's wedding, Tony and Ziva do their best to remain low-key amidst a hawk-eyed boss and nosy coworkers.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there, everyone! I can't believe I'm writing my second fanfic. I apologize to those of you who didn't realize that my first one stopped at Chapter 4. I realized after I published it that I wanted to end the story there. I got such unexpected, wonderful feedback on The Speech and a lot of encouragement to write a sequel…so here goes nothing! This one's two weeks after Jimmy and Breena's wedding. It'll also include the main characters more, because I love them all so very much.**

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><p>He hated Monday mornings. Especially rainy ones.<p>

Tony reclined in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. He tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, hoping for a five-minute nap. The sound of McGee's incessant tapping, completely unnecessary and much louder than normal at this hour, kept him awake and he fought the urge to superglue the Probie's fingers to his keyboard. He frowned internally when he remembered that he had no more nail polish left. McGee'd used it all last week when his nosiness reached an all-time high.

"Can you cool it over there, McMavisBeacon? I'm trying to get some shut-eye."

He could hear McGee huff.

"Tony, it's 8am. I'm trying to catch up on this paperwork. You should probably be doing some yourself, you know."

"Who is Maeve Bacon?"

Tony snapped to an upright position, his feet hitting the floor in a loud, obnoxious boom. He gave Ziva a quick, dazzling smile before he adjusted his tie and prepared to tease her.

"_Mavis Beacon_, Zee-vah," he corrected.

Ziva rolled her eyes and threw her backpack behind her desk. She hung up her raincoat and ignored it dripping on the floor.

"It's a computer program where this lady, Mavis Beacon, teaches you to type better. I think they had them for all different ages," McGee answered helpfully.

Ziva nodded and sat in her chair. She hummed contentedly as she took a sip of her hot tea, the perfect drink on such a miserable day.

"Thank you, McGee," she smiled and narrowed her eyes at Tony. "Why do you look so tired? You have a whole luggage set under your eyes."

"I'll let that slide, because I see where you were going with that," Tony clipped.

He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes before answering.

"If you must know, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"What was her name this time?" McGee rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Tony," Ziva purred, "we are very eager to hear about your newest conquest."

She pouted her lips; her eyes glittered with amusement and Tony felt his cheeks redden. She'd been doing that a lot more lately, making him blush. It was not something Tony particularly liked; Ziva, on the other hand, relished her newfound power.

"No girl this time, Probies. Had a plumbing problem, it took a while to fix the pipe."

He'd left out the fact that it was _Ziva's_ pipe in _Ziva's_ kitchen, and it took half the night to fix. They spent the other half of the night trying to clean up the mess.

McGee cocked his head curiously.

"What happened?"

Tony yawned; he was getting more tired by the minute. Why hadn't his coffee kicked in yet? He drank it almost forty minutes ago but he hadn't felt any more alert.

"Pipe burst, big mess."

"I did not know you were qualified to fix pipes, Tony," Ziva smirked.

He didn't answer right away as he focused his attention on his phone. He found the number and sent a quick text, hoping he'd get the answer he wanted. He met her gaze and smiled childishly.

"Well, you don't know _everything_ about me."

"I am not sure I would like to."

"I doubt that."

"You do, do you?"

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Their minute facial expressions could be detected only by each other, which came from years of studying faces across the bullpen and nights up-close and personal. The loud buzz of Tony's phone broke their moment. He threw a fist in the air and cheered as he read the text message.

"What are you so happy about?"

"What did I tell you about being so nosy, McSnoop? Mind your business."

The elevator dinged to signal a new arrival. A drenched Jimmy Palmer walked into the bullpen juggling a tray of drinks, a paper bag, and his backpack. His big, goofy smile went from ear to ear and his eyes crinkled with happiness. His Harry Potter glasses were sprinkled with raindrops. Tony wondered if they made mini windshield-wipers for glasses, and if there'd be a market for such an invention.

"Good morning, Jimmy," Ziva greeted him warmly. "Welcome back."

"Hey Ziva, McGee."

He outstretched his arm towards Tony. The senior agent sighed in relief and plucked a drink from the tray.

"Thanks, Palmer. You're a lifesaver."

"Sniff that one, you might've grabbed Dr. Mallard's."

Tony sniffed and nodded in approval.

"Smells like hazelnutty goodness. Did they have any doughnuts?"

Jimmy tossed him the paper bag and Tony made a giddy sound as he plucked a jelly doughnut out of the bag.

"Make sure you have a spare shirt, Tony," Ziva smiled, "you and jelly doughnuts do not get along."

Tony made a face at her and dangled the paper bag in the air. In the blink of an eye she'd snatched the bag from his grasp and returned to her chair. She pulled out a glazed doughnut and frowned.

"I am sorry, McGee, but this is the last doughnut."

"Uhh…Tony said you didn't want one," Palmer stammered.

McGee pointed his glare at Tony, happily enjoying his jelly doughnut as neatly as possible.

"Tony!"

He licked his fingers and shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want one. Since you've been working so hard on your McFitness and all, I didn't want you to get sidetracked by us unhealthy eaters."

"Thanks a lot, Tony. I'm starving," he grumbled.

"Would you like to split mine, McGee?"

"It's okay, Ziva, but I really don't like glazed."

Three sets of eyes stared at him in shock.

"What?" they all said at once.

"How can you not like glazed doughnuts?" Jimmy questioned. "They're classics!"

Tony banged his desk in agreement.

"Exactly! Krispy Kremes?" he groaned. "All hot and gooey and fresh from the oven? Oh man, now I want another doughnut."

"You cannot afford another doughnut, Tony," Ziva laughed and patted her stomach. "But I do agree that they are delicious."

"I'm so hungry," McGee whined.

Tony rolled his eyes and opened his desk drawer. He tossed something onto McGee's lap.

"Less calories," he told him.

McGee smiled happily and unwrapped his Nutter-Butter.

"So tell us about the honeymoon," Ziva prodded. "How were the Outer Banks?"

The fiscally responsible couple opted for a honeymoon in the nearby Outer Banks in favor of a longer vacation. They couldn't afford to spend two weeks in a fancy, tropical resort, and McGee recommended the North Carolina destination after he'd taken his ex-girlfriend there.

"We had a great time," the newlywed beamed. "We stayed in this little bed and breakfast on the water, owned by this really adorable older couple who'd lived in the house for twenty years. We went horseback riding, swam in the ocean, made jam…it was perfect."

McGee's ears perked with interest.

"Did you go to that place I told you about?"

Jimmy nodded eagerly.

"Yes! Stella's Jam Shoppe. She remembered you, actually."

"That's because we made about twelve jars," McGee recalled. "Max…she really liked jam."

Tony and Ziva frowned; McGee still couldn't talk about his ex-girlfriend in conversation. They shared a look of pity and then amusement when they realized that Jimmy and McGee were having a hearty discussion about jam. Jimmy hadn't noticed Mcgee's change in mood and continued to chatter away.

"Breena loved the raspberry-blackberry, but personally I'm not a fan of blackberries so I made my own. Did you try the plain raspberry? Ooh, how about the strawberry? Stella told us that those were the best strawberries she's grown in years…"

"Enough of the jam talk, Palmer. Ducky's waiting for his coffee."

Gibbs breezed into the bullpen and began to collect his things.

"Alright, I'd better get going. I'm picking up the photos later, come down to autopsy when you have some time and I'll show you them all!"

Gibbs made a shooing gesture and Jimmy scampered away.

"Gear up, Midshipman's son is missing. Last seen at Rock Creek Park with his mother."

"The wife, Boss?" Tony asked as he tossed his backpack on his shoulder.

"Ex."

McGee struggled to zip his gear but was eager to know more.

"How old's the kid?"

"Just turned four."

"He must be pretty scared."

Gibbs turned around and stared at him with disbelieving eyes.

"Ya think, McGee?"

McGee had the good graces to look embarrassed.

"Right, boss."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and walked towards the elevator, with Ziva following right behind. Tony stopped and waited for McGee.

"We should grab a beer tonight, McGoo," he suggested. "Guy's night."

"Is this another joke where I go to the bar and you're nowhere to be found?"

Tony clapped the younger agent on the shoulder.

"No jokes here, Tim. Just a sincere invitation."

Tony was eager to find McGee a girl and hoped he'd agree. It was about time that he moved on—Tony hated to see him mope around.

"Okay then," McGee nodded. "But just one beer. I doubt we'll get out of here early and I don't want to be up all night."

"Whatever you say, McGeezer."

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**'Ello there! So this chapter is a little different. As I mentioned in the first author's note, I want to focus a lot more on the interactions between the team, and how Tony and Ziva interact with them as a result of their secret little thang. So I'm giving you a heads up that there isn't much Tony/Ziva till the end of this chapter. But the next one will be a lot more of the duo we know and love. Enjoy this one for what it's got—the ending to a case, friendship between Tony and McGee, and a little dose of the happy partners. It's also really long, but I just couldn't stop writing. I hope you all like it!**

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><p>It took three days to find the missing boy, four year-old Graham Peterson. The case was emotional and intense for everyone, especially Gibbs; he refused to let the team go home to even change their clothes, not that they asked. Midshipman Peterson—currently stationed overseas—blamed his ex-wife Claire, and even suspected that she'd orchestrated a kidnapping to keep the children from him. Claire suspected her ex-husband for much the same reasons, including the fear that he'd portray her as an unfit mother.<p>

On the second day it soon became clear that neither parent was responsible. The culprit, 35 year-old Anne Montgomery, was a neighbor who'd lost her own son two months prior when the little boy was hit by a speeding car. So distraught with grief, she'd convinced herself that Graham Peterson was her deceased son, Michael; Anne snatched Graham from the park when his mother wasn't looking. Claire's second child, Daisy, stole her attention for only a minute when she dropped her pacifier and began to cry. By the time Claire settled her daughter and turned around, Graham was gone.

It had been emotionally taxing for Ziva—and those watching her—when she put the cuffs on a hysterical Anne, crying and reaching for Graham. His mother held him tight, and while relief was written all over her face, the pity and sorrow for Anne were hard to miss. Gibbs disappeared for a half hour after everything happened, and no one bothered to question his whereabouts. When he returned, he turned off his desk lamp and headed towards the elevator.

"Everybody go home," he barked. "Don't come in tomorrow."

McGee's eyes widened.

"Really, boss?"

Gibbs turned on his heel to stare back at the young agent. Both Tony and Ziva exchanged frightened looks.

"You want to come in tomorrow? I can arrange that. I'm sure there's a stack of cold cases that need re-examining."

McGee reddened and grimaced.

"No, boss," he stammered, "that's okay. See you Friday."

Gibbs grunted, turned on his heels, and left the bullpen. Only when the elevator doors closed did the other agents release the breaths they were holding.

"I hope you were wearing a diaper, Probie. You looked like you wet yourself there."

McGee, flustered and embarrassed, shuffled the papers on his desk and packed his bag.

"Shut up, Tony. I was just surprised. He doesn't usually give us a day off."

"It has been a tough case for us all," Ziva pointed out gently. "And we have barely slept in three days. Consider it a blessing."

McGee nodded despondently but didn't respond.

Tony looked at the clock and sighed; it was only 9:15. He knew what he had to do, despite the pressing urge to pass out on the couch with Ziva and a pizza. He stalked quietly over to her desk and rested his palms on the surface.

"Hey," he said quietly.

She returned his greeting with a tiny smile.

"Hello."

"So I, uh…"

She nodded.

"Go."

"You sure?"

Ziva discreetly extended her tiny hand and placed it on his. The heat from her fingers gave him tingles all over, and he took a gulp to cover his reaction. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to her touch, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Tim needs you. Get him smiling, and introduce him to that new bartender with the glasses," she wiggled her eyebrows, "I think she would be perfect for him."

"I'll come over later?"

She released her hand almost a nanosecond before she caught McGee staring at their close proximity. It was too close a call for her comfort. She nodded and cleared her throat.

"I will try and wait up."

Tony winked and addressed McGee, but his eyes never left Ziva's. She suppressed a shiver and hoped she wasn't blushing. Was it cause for concern when three days became an unbearable dry spell?

"Hey, McGoo, you want to grab that beer?"

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><p>"Cheers."<p>

Tony clinked his beer ceremoniously with McGee's and took a big sip. He knew he'd have to nurse it; although Ziva agreed that he needed to spend some "man time" with McGee, she wouldn't put up with a drunkard in her bed. And he'd gotten way too used to sleeping beside her to get condemned to the couch. Or worse, his apartment.

McGee made an unpleasant face and Tony laughed.

"What's wrong with your beer?"

"I don't know why I got this one. It's awful."

Tony's jaw dropped in shock.

"You take that back. Sam Summer is the perfect drink on a warm DC evening."

"I should have gotten a Blue Moon."

Tony waved a hand in dismissal.

"I don't trust a beer that comes with a garnish."

McGee rolled his eyes.

"It brings out the flavor, Tony."

"Whatever you say, McBrew. But I'm going to stick with an American classic."

McGee raised an eyebrow and dipped a buffalo wing in blue cheese.

"Blue Moon is American. It's from Colorado," he protested through a mouthful of food.

"Yes, but is 'Blue Moon'," Tony air-quoted, "a key figure in the history of our great nation? I think not!"

McGee licked his fingers and took a sip of his terrible-tasting beer. He didn't care what Tony said, Blue Moon was absolutely delicious and he loved it. And as soon as the waitress came back he was ordering himself a 23oz glass, just to spite the older agent.

"What is this really about, Tony?"

Tony laughed uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you invite me here?"

Tony took a giant bite out of his wing in the hopes of buying some time. What should he say? Should he tell the Probie that he and Ziva are worried about him? Should he mention that it's time he moved on, that it's heartbreaking to watch the agent mope about a girl who's already dating someone else? Probably not the last part, because even he wasn't supposed to know, but Ziva got too curious and had a contact check on her in California. Either way, Tony had to choose his words wisely. Tim was a good guy; he deserved to be happy.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

McGee chomped on a celery stick and looked up at Tony with big, innocent eyes.

"How I'm doing?"

Tony screwed up his face and twiddled his thumbs.

"Well, you know…you've seemed down since you and Max—"

"I'm fine, Tony," he cut him off. "I've just been tired."

"Tim," he began softly. "It's not just that. You're depressed. And that's okay. I get it. You liked Maxine and she was great for you. But you guys made a clean break. Maybe it's time you start meeting new girls."

"Where am I supposed to meet them, Tony?" he sighed. "We're working all the time. Max…she was _perfect_."

Tony clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't say that, Timmy. You've got a lot going for you."

When McGee muttered "yeah, right" under his breath, Tony pointed to the bartender cleaning glasses behind the counter. She had short brown hair, cropped just below her ears, and wore glasses with green plastic frames. She noticed them pointing and shot them both a wide smile, gazing at McGee just a little too long.

"That's Chloe. She's checked you out both times you've come here, and asked about you when I came with…" he trailed off, unwilling to confess to spending time with Ziva lest it triggered more questions. "The point is, McSingle, that she's got the hots for you. And you didn't hear the best part. She's got a Texas drawl!"

McGee laughed despite himself as Tony impersonated the cute Southerner. He smiled back at Chloe and turned to Tony.

"You really think she's interested?"

Tony grinned.

"Totally. Let's finish these wings at the bar, shall we?"

They grabbed their food and drinks, not too guilty about moving to the bar; the waitress had one other table and wouldn't have a problem with their change in location.

"Hiya Tony," Chloe chirped. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Chloe. I'm great. Well, not _great_," he laughed, "we just finished a long case."

"Went well I hope?"

Tony smiled gratefully; she'd met both he and Ziva more than once and knew that they liked to keep the work talk at work.

"Yeah, thanks for asking."

He nudged McGee under the table.

"Chloe, have you met my friend Tim?"

Chloe dried her hand on the towel hanging from her hip. She gave him a wide, friendly smile and cocked her head to the left. Her exposed earring, a small emerald, sparkled in the light.

"No, I haven't," she smiled and extended her hand, "Chloe Callahan."

McGee blushed.

"Tim McGee, I work with Tony. Nice to meet you."

Tony bit his lip from squealing in delight. The two of them were locked in a gaze, neither realizing that they were still in a handshake. He cleared his throat.

"Tim, I bet you'd appreciate this. Chloe went to MIT."

His eyes lit up.

"Really? So did I!"

She laughed.

"I know, Tony mentioned that. What year? I was 2001…"

Tony drowned tuned them out when his phone buzzed. She smiled as he read the short text.

_Well?_

He typed back, _They're hitting it off. You're a natural._

_I told you so._

He laughed out loud, but neither Chloe nor McGee were paying attention.

Three rounds later, Tony was singing along to Benny and the Jets while McGee chatted away with Chloe. Tony knew that the beers were loosening Tim up; he thanked the matchmaking gods that the Probie had enough good sense to let her recommend a brew he'd never tried. He was rather impressed, actually, at Tim's ability to effortlessly chat with her when an hour and a half ago he wasn't interested in anything of the sort. And Chloe seemed completely smitten.

When she disappeared into the back to replace the keg, McGee turned to Tony with a big, drunken smile on his face.

"Tony, this was a great idea," he said in a tone louder than necessary.

Tony laughed.

"I'm glad you're having a good time, it seems like you two are hitting it off."

"I'm going to ask her on a date."

He clapped Tim on the shoulder.

"That's great, McGee. I think you absolutely should."

McGee emptied his third beer. Tony winced when he realized he'd probably be putting McGee to bed if he kept drinking so fast.

"What about you?"

Tony sipped his own beer cautiously. He could feel a slight buzz, the result of not eating a proper meal. His stomach growled, almost as if on cue. What was he thinking, splitting wings with McDiet? He needed more food than that.

"What about me?"

"Well," McGee dragged out, "you're setting me up. What about you? You're single."

Tony scratched the back of his neck and laughed. He closed his eyes momentarily with the hopes that the question would die on McGee's lips and he'd forget he even asked. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen.

"Single is a relative term, but I guess you could say that."

McGee shot him an incredulous look.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that…mind your business, McSnoop. Tonight is about your romantic endeavors. Not mine."

McGee smirked.

"I think you're seeing someone."

Tony took another sip of his drink and debated whether the peanuts on the bar were worth trying. How many other people stuck their hands in that dish?

"You're not denying it."

"No, I'm just ignoring you altogether."

McGee groaned.

"Oh God, please don't say it's EJ."

Tony choked on a peanut and struggled to regain his breath. His eyes watered and he could barely contain his surprise.

"Why would you even mention EJ?"

McGee shrugged.

"I can't think of another reason why you'd keep it a secret. Seeing as how none of us really liked her and she wasn't good for you."

_There's a lot of reasons I'd keep it a secret, Probie. There's a list as long as the beltway, in fact. And then there's the whole "I'm not sure what 'we' even are" element despite the fact that I basically committed to her for life. _

"That's not true. Gibbs liked her, sort of, towards the end."

Tony didn't bother to address the other part of McGee's comment, mainly because he was right. He and EJ _weren't _good for each other. Sure, maybe in the here-and-now they worked, but both of them knew it wasn't a long-term arrangement. Or at least Tony did; he still remembered the seize of panic in his chest when EJ casually mentioned that she could get used to sticking around.

"Yeah, I guess. But I didn't like her. And neither did Ziva."

Tony snorted. Ziva's dislike for EJ was fairly obvious. Neither woman seemed to really enjoy the other's presence much, to be honest.

McGee continued to rattle off the shortcomings of EJ Barrett and Tony tried to drown him out. Yes, she had disappointed him by keeping her family relations a secret, but she wasn't an awful person. She was funny, and smart, and she kept up with him well. He had fun with her, and it felt kind of unfair to bash her this way. Especially when he was so happy now. To him bitterness seemed unnecessary.

McGee gasped in realization. His eyes widened to an unbelievable girth and his jaw dropped so low it looked as if it might unhinge. If Tony hadn't been filled with a crippling fear, he would have laughed at the sight.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Please don't figure it out._

"Does Ziva know?"

Tony wanted to both hug and head slap him; how could he have such a brilliant mind but be so blissfully ignorant to the things going on around him? Or did he just play dumb? Would all of this be in his next novel?

"Does Ziva know what, McGossip? I didn't say there was anything to tell."

McGee nodded vigorously, his assurance growing. Apparently, alcohol gave him a confidence to prod deeply into Tony's life, and also gave Tony a surprising amount of tolerance.

"Does Ziva know you have a secret girlfriend?"

"McGee, I don't—"

"She'll be pissed, you know, when she finds out. Especially if she doesn't find out from you."

Tony smiled before he could stop himself. Luckily he refrained from admitting that _no_, Ziva _wouldn't_ be mad because she was the woman he was seeing in secret.

"You think this is funny?" McGee raised his voice. "Tony, you're going to ruin everything!"

"What?"

"Doing this, running around with someone on the sly, keeping secrets from her…it's like you're taking three steps back. This isn't right."

"Tim," he began, but McGee once again cut him off.

"No, Tony," he said firmly. "It's your turn to listen. It's for your own good. You and Ziva…at the wedding…I don't know, it seemed like maybe you were admitting some things. It seemed like you were finally making a move one way or the other."

Tony sighed. Maybe the Probie had been watching them, after all.

'Tony, I just think you should be honest with her. If you're seeing a girl, she'll want to know. Didn't you guys promise to tell each other more, and be more involved in each other's lives?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course McMemory would recall that little argument that took place in the bullpen, thankfully when Gibbs was down with Abby. He and Ziva both agreed, after a mild shouting match, that as partners they'd try not to keep as many secrets. It was just a few days before Cobb dropped an eyeball in Tony's drink, and he still credits their argument for allowing them to be so open with each during that whole fiasco. It had been refreshing, their honesty. It was the start of a better, closer relationship, one that led to where they were now.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Tim."

"Yes it is!" he protested. "You guys…I always hoped that you two would, I don't know, be together?" His voice cracked when he hiccupped. "Or something. I don't know. I just…"

"Spit it out, McGee," Tony said a little more forcefully than he'd hoped. "Sorry."

"Tommy and Lisa love each other in the books, Tony," McGee admitted carefully, "and that didn't just come from nowhere."

Tony processed his friend's words. Though they'd all badgered him about the likeness of characters, Tim always denied the direct inspiration. Now he was confessing to modeling Tommy and Lisa after he and Ziva. It was oddly flattering to hear him admit that obvious truth.

"I can't write them together in the story without it happening. I feel like it would be a slap in the face to you guys."

McGee stopped and gathered his thoughts. Tony waited for him to continue.

"It's not my place, and I'm just going to say one last thing before you decide to stop listening to me," he laughed and hiccupped again. "I can't even believe you listened this long to begin with, but here goes nothing. I don't think either of you will be truly happy unless you're with each other. And I hope one day you'll both realize that before it's too late."

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. He really should correct him, but he knew that neither he nor Ziva were ready for that. McGee, despite his good intentions, would tell Abby. It would spin out of control too fast, and Tony couldn't afford to mess anything up.

"Thanks, Tim," he smiled genuinely. "I appreciate that."

Their bro moment was interrupted by another round of hiccups and a few questionable burps. McGee raced to the bathroom, just in case, and Tony closed the tab.

"Where'd Tim go?" Chloe asked as she returned.

"I'm right here," he emerged, a little paler than before but otherwise normal. "Sorry, I had a work call."

Tony smiled charmingly.

"He had a work call."

He signed the tab and waved to Chloe.

"Meet me outside in a few minutes, I'll get a cab."

McGee mouthed his thanks as he said his goodbyes to the cute bartender in private. He grinned from ear to ear as he left the bar.

"I got her number!"

"Excellent! Good job, man. She really liked you."

McGee smiled warmly.

"Thanks, Tony. I really needed this."

Tony clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. Glad to see you happy, Probie."

The cab pulled up and Tony opened the door.

"You take this one, Tim. See you Friday."

Tony closed the door on a drunken friend and hoped he wouldn't have too big a hangover tomorrow morning. He pulled out his cell and prayed it wouldn't go to voicemail.

"Hey," he smiled as he greeted her even though she couldn't see it. "Are you still up?"

* * *

><p>Tony was finally where he wanted to be all night. When she opened her door, it was clear she'd fallen asleep, but she smiled affectionately and suppressed a yawn.<p>

"Sorry I'm so late."

"It is alright. I have been relaxing here. I drank more wine that I should have."

Tony gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Ziva couldn't believe how natural it felt to be greeted this way, in her own apartment. It amazed her how he so effectively conveyed his emotions in one small gesture.

"Uh oh," he laughed, "I hope it wasn't red. No wonder you fell asleep."

Ziva held up an empty bottle.

"I finished the Shiraz from last night," she replied guiltily. "I wanted something to drink in the bath."

Tony shook his head and laughed. Sometimes, without even meaning to, Ziva David could be absolutely adorable.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving. McGee wanted to share a plate of wings."

Ziva gasped in mock horror.

"And that is all you ate?"

Tony laid on the pity act. He pouted and batted his eyelashes.

"I'm so hungry," he whined.

Ziva narrowed her eyes. She opened the fridge and bent down to retrieve something from the bottom drawer. Tony admired the view.

"Then it is a good thing I picked this up on the way home."

Tony's gaze warred between Ziva's smile and the wrapped hero in her hands. He raced to her side, cupped her face, and kissed her passionately.

Then he went for the hero.

"Thanks so much, Zi," he gushed. "I could eat a horse right now."

Ziva shook her head and went back to her spot on the couch. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned; for an instant Tony felt guilty for waking her. But then he looked back at the sandwich in his hand and the beautiful woman waiting for him on the couch and forgot any past regrets.

He settled beside her with a beer, his delicious-smelling meatball sub, and of course, a plate for all the crumbs he would inevitably spill.

"What are we watching?"

"I was watching a special on the History Channel," she rolled her eyes when he groaned in protest, "but I recorded it so I can watch it another time. I missed most of it anyway."

"Did you by any chance tape…"

"Of course I did," she laughed, "but I did not watch it yet. I wanted to watch it with you. And by the way, the previews look pretty intense."

"I can't wait!" he mumbled through a mouthful of sub. "This is delicious."

"I had their eggplant. I enjoyed mine, too."

"Next time we should split them."

She looked at him incredulously.

"You would not part with that sandwich for anything in this world."

He tried to protest, but knew she'd be doubtful. It was the best hero he'd ever tasted. He thought about telling her that he would, if she asked him to, split it with her. He'd do just about _anything_ for her, and splitting sandwiches fell well within that territory. But it was late, and they were both exhausted, and it just didn't seem like the right time.

The familiar credits rolled and both Tony and Ziva were giddy with anticipation. It was their guilty pleasure, and they'd sworn each other to secrecy. No one else would know. As they showed the recaps from last week's _Real Housewives of New Jersey_, Tony finished the last of his sandwich and placed an arm over Ziva's shoulder.

"I wonder if Melissa and Teresa will finally duke it out this week," he whispered in her ear.

He tried not to smile too hard when he felt her shiver beside him.

"I do not think they will, Tony," she answered and placed her head against his chest. "This is television. They must build suspense as long as possible. Otherwise no one would watch it."

"Who are we kidding? We'd both still watch it."

Ziva laughed, a carefree, melodious laugh that gave Tony butterflies. Watching trashy reality television with her by his side felt so right to him. He felt so genuinely happy to get this opportunity to be with her.

"Remind me tomorrow to tell you all about McGee and Chloe."

"Is there a lot to tell?" she asked with earnest interest. She, too, wanted McGee with a great girl.

"Probably," he yawned. "I'll give you the full rundown at breakfast."

"You are making pancakes, by the way," she reminded him.

He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off.

"And do not say there is no batter here. I picked up all the ingredients. You can no longer brag about your famous pancakes without providing evidence. Tomorrow is your chance to shine."

He smiled and settled deeper into the couch.

"You got it, Zi."

* * *

><p>They fell asleep on the couch together. At around 4am, Ziva woke with a start and tried to drag Tony into bed.<p>

"Mhmpf," he mumbled.

"Tony," she whispered. "We fell asleep out here. It is late. We can sleep in tomorrow."

She pulled Tony by the hand and he followed, still half-asleep.

"I have other plans in mind for us," he yawned.

He took off the remainders of his suit and got into bed next to Ziva. He could smell both his and her scents on the pillows, and that made him inexplicably pleased.

"If you are good," she whispered before kissing him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Tony."

"Night, Zi."

She listened to his breathing even out and knew he was asleep once again. She turned to face him and ran a finger gently along the crease in his forehead.

"Love you," she whispered so quietly that she wasn't sure she'd even said it.

* * *

><p><strong>Are you all still alive? That was a long chapter. But I hope you got to see some of why I love McGee and Tony so much. And of course, Tony and Ziva. And as always, your comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. Until next time!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, thanks for all the great feedback for the previous chapter! I'm so glad you all enjoy Tony and McGee's broverwhelming love as much as I do. As promised, there's a lot of Tony and Ziva in here. And some good ole fashioned margarita nights. I hope you like it!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

Ziva wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and left the bathroom. She could hear sizzling and humming in the kitchen and smiled to herself. She'd recently discovered that when Tony _did_ cook, he loved to entertain himself by singing whatever song popped in his head. He did it absent-mindedly, which meant that he didn't always know what song he'd chosen, which _also_ meant that Ziva would spend as many minutes as possible watching him, and smiling so hard her face hurt. She found him incredibly endearing when he did it. In fact, she'd been finding him more and more endearing recently. Not that she would admit it, of course.

She slipped on her favorite cotton lounge pants, soft from prolonged use, and a worn-in t-shirt before heading into the kitchen. On a whim, she grabbed a sweatshirt; she wasn't sure if Tony had completely cranked up the air conditioning in her living room, like he did every morning he woke up there.

She heard him swear, and went to investigate.

"Is everything okay?"

She rounded the corner and saw Tony standing in nothing but his boxers sucking his knuckle. He dropped his finger immediately and smiled.

"Oh nothing, just burnt my finger on some bacon grease."

She rolled her eyes.

"Did you drop it back into the pan too fast?"

He nodded in disbelief.

"How the hell did you know that? Is there a video camera in here?"

She laughed and kissed him on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and rested her forehead in between his shoulder blades. The feeling of his back muscles rippling against her never failed to turn her on.

"I just know you," she mumbled into his bare skin. "You are very predictable."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "The pancakes are almost done, but the bacon needs a few more minutes. Can you see if the coffee's ready?"

They gave each other one more quick kiss before they separated. She poured the fresh coffee into some mugs and set the table.

"So tell me about last night," she yawned.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Still tired?"

"I could do with a nap after this morning…"

Tony whistled at the memory. Today would have been the fourth day in their dry spell, so first thing on their agenda had been to make up for lost time. Again. And again. It was now almost 10:30am and they had been up for a few hours already. He didn't blame her for being tired. He was ready for bed himself.

"You loved every minute of it."

She winked.

"I did."

* * *

><p>The sound of a phone ringing woke the two from their nap. Ziva searched blindly for her phone, and opened it without checking the ID.<p>

"Don't answer it," Tony groaned.

Ziva shoved his arm.

"Hello?" she mumbled.

"_Hi, Ziva!"_ Abby chirped. _"Did I wake you?"_

"Well—"

"_Because it's noon already and you're usually up at the crack of dawn doing ninja things so I figured you'd be out and about…"_

"It is fine, Abby," she sighed. "What can I do for you?"

Tony had turned away and placed his head back on the pillow. Ziva slapped his butt and he growled before finally waking up.

"_What was that?"_

"Nothing, Abby," she hurried. "Is everything okay? Do you need something?"

Abby took a deep breath and inwardly Ziva groaned. That meant she intended on talking for minutes at a time without pause.

"_Well, I was supposed to go to this Brain Matter concert tonight with Tara but she canceled and then I asked McGee if he wanted to go but apparently he has a date tonight, and then I called Tony but he hasn't answered so I need someone to go with and I was wondering if you'd be interested…"_

Ziva reached for Tony's phone. Three missed calls, all from Abby; he'd turned the sound off, something Ziva should have done, too.

"Abby, Brain Matter is not really my type of scene," she worded carefully.

"_Please, Ziva,"_ Abby begged. _"We don't really spend that much time together and I spent so much on these tickets I really don't want to go alone. We can go to the concert and then maybe Tony and McGee will meet us afterwards for drinks? If McGee's date doesn't run too long. Or maybe we could just go scope the scene for some new guys. You guys are only on-call tomorrow, so you might not even need to go in! Please, Ziva. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."_

Ziva pinched the bridge of her nose. Would it really be _that_ bad? The _concert _would, she was certain, but she agreed that she and Abby needed to spend more time together. She would pretend—with everyone but Tony—that it didn't hurt that she had been Abby's last resort. Maybe she would have been more eager to spend time with Abby if she didn't feel like an afterthought.

She held her palm over the receiver and turned to Tony.

"She wants me to go to that horrible concert with her," she whispered with fear. "What should I do?"

Tony laughed.

"I heard everything. Go, and then I'll come and meet you both afterwards if you want."

"But what about..."

"Don't worry," he smiled. "Raincheck. My place tonight?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"I'll take your running stuff over today, so you can go tomorrow morning. How's that?"

She released a breath of air and rolled her eyes.

"Alright, Abby," she conceded. "I will go to the concert with you. What time?"

Ziva held the phone from her ear as Abby squealed for a minute straight, thanking her for coming with her at the last minute.

"_Seriously, Ziva, this means so much. Thanks!"_

She laughed. It made her happy to please Abby, even if she hadn't been her first choice. Maybe they could work on their friendship and grow closer? She really needed a female friend.

"_We can go to that new Mexican place afterwards? Sunset Cantina?"_

The corners of Ziva's mouth twitched upwards into a mischievous smile. Tony matched her expression, wishing he knew what his ninja had planned.

If he had any idea that Ziva planned on wearing her most scandalous outfit, he would probably be ready for another round in between the sheets.

"_That sounds fantastic. I would love a margarita or two."_

"Or four!" Abby screamed excitedly. "Should we see if the boys want to meet us?"

Tony nodded and Ziva covered his mouth with her hand, just in case he tried any funny business. She bit back a yelp and released him when he licked her palm. Tony mimed laughing and did a little happy dance in bed, proud that he'd grossed her out.

_Adorable,_ she thought. _Absolutely adorable._

"McGee has a date tonight, but if he is the gentleman I believe him to be, he'll be done early. I do not know if Tony has plans—he might."

"_Who is this girl?" _Abby asked, and Ziva couldn't help but roll her eyes at the jealousy in her tone.

"Her name is Chloe, and she is very nice, Abby."

"_If you say so,"_ she sighed. _"He really doesn't need another crazy girl. I'll call Tony later. Or maybe you want to?"_

"I will ask him if you want."

"_Great! I'll come and get you at seven. Meet me downstairs because the cab will be waiting!"_

"See you then, Abby."

"_Yay! I'm so excited! Can't wait! See you later!"_

Ziva hung up even as Abby continued to express her excitement. She knew Abby wouldn't be offended—it was the only way to get her to stop. She placed the phone on the nightstand and banged her head against the headboard, ignoring Tony's raucous laughter.

"You have to go to Brain Matter tonight," he taunted.

"Stop it," she hissed. "You told me to go!"

"The music is going to be soooo loud," he reminded her in a singsong voice.

She groaned and threw the covers over her head.

"I am not going anymore," she declared, the sheet muffling her voice.

Tony lifted the sheet and stared down at her with a huge smile on his face. He propped himself on one elbow to face her.

"It won't be _so_ bad, Zi," he promised. "It's two hours of music you hate. But you said yourself that you wish you two were closer. This could be your chance. And then I'll meet you. I'll also give McGoo a ring before I head out and see if he's done as well. We can even call Palmer and Breena if they're not still shacking it up in their newlywed cone of bliss."

She scrunched up her face.

"What?"

"Forget it," he shook his head.

"What is a cone of bliss?"

Tony sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"It's too hard to explain."

She laughed and reached over to twirl her fingers in his chest hair.

"You seem very frustrated, Tony," she purred. "Are you getting tired of me already?"

His eyes bore into her with an intensity that made her blush. They told her something she wasn't sure she was ready to hear, even if she shared the same feelings. Despite the fact that they'd spent almost every night together since Jimmy's wedding, a part of Ziva still wondered if she'd wake up and find him gone. It was a very, very small part, and every day Tony did things to make it even smaller. It frightened her—in a good way—that she knew one morning she'd wake up and know he'd be there as long as she wanted him.

"Never," he swore.

He leaned over and kissed her, and it didn't take Ziva long to catch up. Just as she was really enjoying herself, he pulled away and smirked.

"If I weren't around, who would you do _that _with?"

She bit her lip. He'd set her up for way too many comebacks, and she knew he knew it. Now she just had to pick her favorite. She looked him square in the eyes and put on her most serious face.

"Gibbs."

Tony's jaw dropped and Ziva let a peal of laughter.

"I told you I liked older men, Tony," she winked.

He harrumphed and crossed his arms.

"Not _that_ old," he muttered.

She pouted and clucked her tongue.

"Have I offended you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," he huffed.

Ziva shrugged and left the bed, swaying her hips for extra effect. Wearing nothing but a lace thong definitely meant that this argument, however playful, would end in her favor.

"Guess I better call Jethro then," she called over her shoulder.

Tony shot out of bed and lunged after her. He wondered if the neighbors could hear her squealing with laughter as he chased her into the bathroom.

"I thought you were mad at me," she said in between laughs and moans as he attacked her collarbone with kisses.

He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her on the bathroom counter. He resumed kissing her neck, working his way up to her lips.

"I don't hold grudges."

'How very fortunate for me," she breathed.

When one of his rough-but-soft hands ran up her bare side and skimmed just under her breast with his thumb, she shivered with anticipation.

"_Very_," he answered huskily.

* * *

><p>Ziva gave herself a last once-over before heading downstairs to meet Abby. She wasn't dressed properly for the venue, but she'd fit right in with the crowd at the bar afterwards. And she really wanted to impress Tony, as silly as it sounded. She knew he'd planned a date night for them tonight, and she'd been looking forward to it all week, but they both agreed that it could wait. They were determined to be one of those "couples" that didn't have to spend all their time with each other, and most importantly, knew when friends came before a relationship.<p>

She teetered out the front door of her building and almost tripped. Her heels weren't that high, but her legs still felt like jelly from today. Just thinking about their rendezvous in the bathroom, and everything that followed, caused heat to fan through her body and her cheeks to blush a deep scarlet. Tony still had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, and it was insanely gratifying to know that she'd eventually get to discover them all. Who knows? By then, he'd probably learn new ones. Tony was nothing if not an eager student. And she was a more than willing teacher.

She smiled outwardly at the memory of Tony discovering some plays from her _own_ arsenal. It had been pretty reassuring to realize that even some of her most classic moves could still turn a grown, virulent man into a puddle of goo at her feet. That's the way she preferred it, after all.

The cab driver honking jolted her out of her reverie. Abby rolled down the window and wolf-whistled.

"Ziva, you look fantastic!"

"Thank you, Abby. From what I can see you look great yourself."

Her bubbly friend smiled and bobbed her head back and forth, her braided pigtails swinging in different directions. She swung the cab door open and shuffled to make room for Ziva, gushing all over again.

"You really look beautiful, Ziva. Thank you for coming with me."

Ziva, in a very bold move, placed a hand on Abby's knee, just for a moment. It was enough and sent the message across.

_Let's work on this_.

"We will have fun tonight," she smiled, almost as if convincing herself. "I believe Tony is meeting us after the concert. We may even get to see Jimmy and Breena."

"I can't wait. You're going to just _love_ Brain Matter live!"

* * *

><p>The concert was exactly what Ziva expected: loud, crowded, and sweaty, but not in a good way. Abby jammed along with the music the whole time, looking over at Ziva expectantly and smiling.<p>

"Isn't this great?" she'd scream and Ziva would nod convincingly.

When it was over, Ziva couldn't get to the bar fast enough. She was ready to enjoy a few drinks with everyone in an atmosphere where she could hear her own thoughts. She became a little concerned when she realized a half hour later while sipping their margaritas that her ears were still ringing.

"It's normal," Abby explained. "Your ears get used to it after a while."

It wasn't long before Jimmy and Breena showed up, hand in hand, smiling like they were on their wedding.

"Hey everyone," Jimmy smiled.

Breena gave a shy wave. Though Jimmy's coworkers were nothing but welcoming, she'd always been a bit intimidated of both women.

"Breena!" Abby squealed as she trapped the new wife in a crushing hug. "You look so tan!"

"Yes," Ziva smiled. "You have a very healthy glow."

"We got great weather," Breena gushed. "It was a fantastic honeymoon."

Ziva nodded.

"Yes, Jimmy told us all about it. It sounds like you both got a lot done."

Breena playfully shoved her husband's arm.

"Honey, I hope you weren't boring them with all the details."

Jimmy shrugged guiltily and Breena looked back between Abby and Ziva. Both of them shook their heads and lied. Ziva had heard everything, and McGee regaled all details to Abby the minute he had free time.

"I'm sorry if he said too much," she apologized. "We really did have a great time though."

They looked at each other and smiled. Ziva had to look away; she felt like she was interrupting a private moment. Is this how McGee felt all those times she and Tony had their own staring contests?

Abby clapped her hands excitedly and slammed her empty glass on the bar counter.

"Who's ready for another round?"

* * *

><p>Tony felt only slightly guilty for being late. He'd had a longer-than-usual phone conversation with his father, one that he actually enjoyed. Apparently, Dinozzo, Sr. planned on visiting the following weekend and wanted to see if Tony was around for dinner or lunch in Georgetown. He was more than willing to spend some time with his father, especially if it didn't involve suspicion of involvement in whatever crime NCIS was currently investigating.<p>

He spotted Abby at the bar, dancing in her spot next to Breena and Jimmy. Her plaid mini-skirt kept swishing every time she moved. He also noticed that Jimmy kept his arm loosely around Breena's waist as he chattered away confidently. It seemed married life did him good.

But where was his ninja? He couldn't see her from his vantage point. It had definitely sucked that they hadn't gotten to go on the date he planned, even though he knew it was important that Abby and Ziva become closer. He'd pulled strings the day after Jimmy's wedding to arrange a romantic table at DC's newest restaurant, a brasserie with Mediterranean fusion. He knew she would love the décor, warm and inviting with an exotic feel. _Just like her_. Tony continued to scan for the familiar curtain of dark hair, but to no avail.

Maybe she was in the bathroom?

Abby spotted him first—of course, with her two-inch advantage on everyone else—and gestured wildly.

"Tony!"

He winced when everyone within a five-foot radius whipped their heads around to stare at him. When did he get so self-conscious?

Abby pounced on him before he had a chance to defend himself. She pulled him back to the group and he followed behind like an unwilling puppy.

"You are late, Mister," she scolded. "We are already drunk."

Tony laughed.

"I'm sorry, Abs. Had some stuff to do before I got here."

Breena spun around and gave Tony a big, warm hug.

"I hope you're not breaking some poor girl's heart, Tony. There are enough of those out there already."

He kissed her cheek.

"I wouldn't have broken _your_ heart, Breena," he teased. "I swear."

Palmer jumped in good-naturedly after their signature handshake.

"I'm willing to fight for her, so be ready."

Tony pointed to Jimmy in disbelief.

"Seriously? _This_ guy?"

Jimmy made a noise in protest, Abby laughed, but Breena merely shrugged.

"He brainwashed me, Tony. Otherwise I would have snagged you up right away."

Tony winked.

"I would've put the handcuffs on _for_ you."

Breena linked her arm through Tony's and ran a finger down his shoulder.

"We could always have an affair," she suggested.

"Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes."

Jimmy shook his head and laughed.

"You know, if we were having this conversation when I first started working with you, I think I would have been worried."

"Don't be silly," Abby admonished. "Tony's only kidding. Right, Tony?"

He'd stopped paying attention and was avidly searching for Ziva at this point. It took a few more name-calls before he finally registered.

"Oh, sorry. What?"

"Never mind," Abby huffed. "What are you drinking?"

He noticed that the group all had a giant cup rimmed with salt; Palmer's drink even had a mini-umbrella.

"I guess I'll have a margarita. But on the rocks, I have an image to uphold."

He waited till he'd gotten his drink before asking about Ziva. He didn't want to seem too eager, after all.

"Where's everyone's favorite ex-assassin?"

At the mention of Ziva, both Abby and Breena began to giggle uncontrollably.

"She's flirting with that guy," Breena pointed with her head to a very tall man's back, Ziva presumably on the other side. "He is _so_ cute!"

Tony couldn't see her yet, but when the stranger turned just a little, his breath caught in his throat and he blinked in shock.

It had to be illegal to look that good.

There she was, in a slinky white dress made of a fabric Tony couldn't wait to feel through his fingers, particularly when he was taking it off. It stopped at an agonizing point just above her mid-thigh, revealing smooth, tan skin that made him lick his lips. Her silver strappy heels looked simple but sexy, which was exactly Ziva's style mantra. If she even _had_ a mantra. From what he'd seen in the movies, spies needed to allure their targets but be functional enough to chase them down and kick their ass. He wasn't sure if Ziva could do that in those shoes and that dress, but he'd kind of like to find out—it'd be pretty hot to watch.

A sparkly clip gathered her hair on one side, and her eyes looked dark and sexy. Her lips were soft and kissable, like always, and he watched as they formed into a smirk. She apparently found her suitor situation amusing, and hadn't been paying any attention to him whatsoever.

She turned to Derek, a staggeringly handsome Bostonian with a charming smile and quirky sense of humor, and placed a hand on his arm.

"I am sorry, Derek, but I actually have to go."

"Would you like to grab dinner sometime?"

She smiled sadly.

"If you had asked two weeks ago, I probably would have said yes."

He nodded with understanding.

"Another guy?"

"And he is way too good to let go."

With that, she walked away and towards the man in question. He gave her a lopsided smile and she returned it with one of her own. Tony nodded to someone over her head, and she realized that Derek had surrendered with no hard feelings.

It was a pity; he really was a great guy. But as she walked towards Tony, she knew she had not one regret.

Before she could reach him, Abby jumped in her line of view with her arms crossed and an angry face.

"Why did you leave?"

"I am sorry, Abby," she sighed. "But we did not click."

Abby threw her hands in the air, spilling some of her drink on the people behind her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Abby, be careful," Ziva warned gently.

She ignored the warning and continued to rant.

"You two were talking for the past fifteen minutes!"

By now, Ziva was standing right next to Tony. She very subtly rubbed her leg against his, as both a greeting and a reassurance that she hadn't been interested in her suitor.

"Abby, I was being polite. When I said that we did not click, I meant it. There was no 'pah'."

Tony hid his smile behind his drink.

Abby dropped the subject, knowing when to accept defeat. Breena took a giant slurp of her margarita to cut the awkward tension.

"I think it's time for another."

Tony raised his glass in appreciation.

"Here, here."

Jimmy's eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to speak. Tony could almost _see_ the wheels turning in Palmer's head. He hoped for the Autopsy Gremlin's sake that it was a good idea.

"Should we do some tequila shots?"

Okay, so Palmer got lucky. It was a _great_ idea.

* * *

><p>Abby was the last one to leave as she watched Palmer and Breena get into a cab. Tony would be furious if he knew that the newlyweds left her by herself, but she had insisted they take the first one that came.<p>

To be honest, she was a bit miffed that McGee hadn't shown up, but he'd texted her and apologized with what seemed to be a pretty legitimate excuse. Apparently, McGee and clam chowder didn't mix; he had a severe allergic reaction and went home to rest. She thought about going over there to check on him, a completely friendly gesture in her opinion, but she wasn't sure if his date should be the one to play nurse.

_She's at home. Apparently she's sick, too._

Abby smiled and typed a quick response.

_In the mood for a Florence Nightingale?_

As Jimmy and Breena drove away, something felt hinky. She started to piece little things from tonight together and frowned when they didn't add up. Her phone buzzing interrupted her theory and she read it with a smile.

_Only if you're okay with getting puked on._

_Fine by me, _she responded immediately.

She frowned when she realized she'd probably seemed too eager. But when her phone buzzed again a few seconds later, she remembered that this was her Timmy, and there was absolutely no need for pretenses.

_Pay no attention to the hives. I've been scratching_.

She laughed out loud and then gasped.

"Tony and Ziva live in opposite directions. Why did they go home together?"

* * *

><p><strong>Eee sorry about McGee getting sick again. It was unintentional. But to be fair, in the prior chapter I think he was just gagging a bit, and it was a false alarm. In this chapter, however, he's actually sick lol. I hope you liked all the TonyZiva. And the team! Reviews and feedback would be so very nice. I would love to know what y'all are thinking about the story so far! **

**Ciao!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey there, sorry about the delay, but this chapter was tough to write. I apologize if it drags on—I get a little carried away with Tony and Ziva's banter. Also, I noticed as I re-read this story that every chapter involves food. So does this one, in fact. Food for my family is always a social thing—no matter what we're discussing, it's done over food—so I can guarantee that this won't be the last chapter that involves delicious cuisine. _Warning_: Megan, this chapter contains graphic description of breakfast and some slight mentions of guacamole.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

It had been almost three weeks since the team met for margaritas. Tony's dinner with Senior went off without a hitch, to both his and Ziva's surprise. Their banter was light, nothing too heavy, but Tony preferred it that way. He wasn't sure he was ready for another "what was wrong with my childhood" discussion with his father just yet. Senior also managed to flirt with Ziva only twice when she met them for dessert—his best and most respectful record yet. Later when Tony asked him why he'd showed such control, Senior simply shrugged.

"I could tell by the way you talked about her that things were different this time. I didn't want to steal her from you if you two were working things out."

Both Tony and Ziva were pleased that McGee seemed to be planning date number four with Chloe. It was great to see the young agent in such high spirits, and the two had really hit it off. Chloe thanked Tony profusely for introducing her to Tim, claiming that he was one of the nicest, most fun guys she'd met since moving to DC. Tony refrained from mentioning that she was talking about the same person who wore a big, blue elf-lord costume not too many years ago.

He noticed that it was increasingly difficult to keep his thing with Ziva a secret with each week that passed. While neither of them was overly romantic or mushy in public, he found himself struggling to balance his normal amount of inappropriate banter and eye contact with the prolonged staring he'd grown accustomed to in the past five weeks. It was hard to watch her twirl her long hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and _not_ think about how it smelled right after she showered or the way it spilled onto his chest and pillow while she slept. He'd clench his fists and channel all his will power not to drag her to the darkest corner in the building for a quickie at work. And it wasn't just him, either; he heard every sharp intake of breath whenever got too close to Ziva, the way she'd shut her eyes and resist her instinct to reach out and touch him.

Abby's nosiness reached new heights since the night at the bar. She pestered Tony and Ziva about taking the same cab home. Where did they go? Why did they share a cab when they live in opposite directions? Did they do something after Sunset Cantina? Why didn't they invite her? Ziva told her eager-for-details friend that she stayed on Tony's couch for the night when she realized at the bar that she'd lost her keys. Tony simply smiled, amazed but not surprised by Ziva's ability to lie on the spot. Abby accepted that excuse but had continued to watch the two like a hawk. Her eyes narrowed whenever they stood too close, and both Tony and Ziva on separate occasions overheard her whispering her suspicions to McGee.

Despite the lengths they went to at work to remain discreet, Tony and Ziva were completely comfortable at home and in public. It felt natural when Tony placed his hand on Ziva's lower back when they crossed the street, or when he reached over to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear. The couple mastered the art of subtle public affection much like the other numerous tasks they tackled together. It only further proved that they were fantastic partners both in and out of the field.

This particular morning went like most of the others: Tony chasing after Ziva on her morning run. She never forced him, but he liked the extra time together. Not that he would admit it, but he also wanted to lose a few inches.

"Sweet Jesus," Tony panted. "This Charlie horse is out of control."

Ziva rolled her eyes as she finished stretching. She raised an arm over her head and leaned to the right.

"I told you to stretch beforehand, Tony. Your muscles are too tight. Stretching more often will improve their flexibility."

He groaned as he bent forward and stretched out his hamstring.

"Maybe it's because you insisted we do two extra miles today."

"You are being a baby."

"We ran almost eight miles, Ziva! That's insane!"

She smirked.

"I needed to jumpstart your metabolism. We are going for waffles."

Tony's face lit up and Ziva couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

"Do we have time?"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"That is why I got you up extra early this morning. Once we get dressed, we should have a little over an hour."

Tony cupped her face and kissed her again, barely containing his excitement.

"How'd you know I was craving waffles this morning?"

Ziva's gaze roved over his body and back to his eyes. She let out a quick laugh and turned on her heels.

"I know you very well, Tony. Do not forget that."

"Crazy ninja," he mumbled.

She laughed again, winking over her shoulder.

"You also mentioned it in your sleep."

"Cheater!" he shouted.

She stuck out her tongue and started running again.

"Race you back to the apartment!"

"No way," he responded loud enough that she could hear.

In the end, he sighed and hustled after her, grumbling the whole way home.

* * *

><p>"That is<em> a lot <em>of syrup, Tony."

Tony looked up from his plate, which contained three stacked waffles saturated in maple syrup with a heaping pile of bacon and sausage on the side.

"And?"

She shrugged and cut into her own plate, careful not to spill the blueberry compote on her work clothes.

"_And_ I am confident that you could singlehandedly keep Canada's maple syrup industry afloat."

"I do what I can for our brothers in the North."

She grinned.

"Do you remember when McGee had to go to Canada?"

Tony laughed and choked on his waffle.

"McMountie," he mumbled through a mouthful of food, "that was excellent."

She snorted.

"McGee did not think so."

Tony shrugged.

"Oh well. We all have to take some dud trips once and a while. One time I woke up next to an iguana. It scared the hell out of me."

"People keep iguanas as pets, do they not?"

"Yeah, but I woke up and found it on the pillow next to mine. That's pretty damn scary."

She laughed and stole a piece of his bacon.

"What did you do?"

"I screamed. Gibbs and Kate ran in to check on me."

Tony smiled at the memory. His eyes got a faraway look at he recalled Kate and their time together. Thinking of her was always bittersweet for him.

"You miss her very much," Ziva stated.

He nodded and swallowed another big bite.

"I do."

"I would have liked to meet her," she said carefully. Kate was always a touchy subject, and she tried not to bring her up.

Tony reached across the small table and placed his hand over hers.

"I would've liked that, too."

She smiled gratefully. It meant a lot to her that Tony was willing to open up to her about his time at NCIS before she came. A part of her would always feel responsible for Kate's death; she always wondered if there was something she could have done differently.

She had developed a keen sense of knowing when a moment ended with Tony, and she knew they'd just reached the end of memory lane—for now, anyway. She hoped one day she would learn more about the deceased agent, but right now she was content with gleaning bits and pieces of her as they came. She stole another piece of bacon and smiled.

"Good thing you ordered extra bacon. This is absolutely delicious."

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed in exaggeration.

"I told you! This place is fantastic."

Ziva finished the last bit of her waffle and licked her lips.

"We are coming here again."

"Hell yeah we are," he nodded emphatically.

He shoveled some of his bacon onto her empty plate.

"Eat."

She cocked her head to the side.

"Are you sure? You love your bacon, Tony."

"I've got sausages and waffles to tackle still. Besides, I knew you were going to want some."

Ziva laughed and tossed a piece in her mouth.

"And that is why I love you."

Tony spit out some orange juice and choked on the rest of it. Ziva's eyes widened in surprise and she froze completely.

"I mean, I—"

She shook her head and blinked rapidly. She couldn't believe that she'd just said it like that. And she couldn't believe she was the first to say it. Out loud, anyway; she'd said it once or twice to his sleeping form, too scared to confess face to face.

Tony grinned from ear to ear, a cocky, shit-eating grin.

"You love me," he tilted his head from side to side and repeated his words in a singsong voice.

"Stop it," she hissed. "I did not say that."

He pointed at her and smiled again, loving every second of her embarrassment.

"You absolutely did. You love me."

Ziva's cheeks reddened. She began to feel a little irritated with Tony's jokes. This was the way he handled her confession? The same man who called her his soul mate?

She huffed and grabbed her purse, ready to dart from the table in an angry exit. But Tony grabbed her wrist and his face grew serious.

"Sit."

"I will not stay here and listen to your immature antics—"

"Ziva," he sighed. "Please sit down."

She obeyed begrudgingly.

"I'm sorry I acted like that. I really am. But I just needed a minute. It was the first time you've said that to me."

She rolled her eyes.

"Tony, I was under the impression that we were both committed."

"We are," he sighed and reached for her hand. Thankfully, she didn't pull away. "It's just…I don't know, it was a big deal to hear. I wasn't sure I'd ever hear those words come from your mouth."

Ziva opened her mouth to argue, but he raised a finger and shook his head.

"I was surprised, and I was relieved, but it was only because I thought it was going to be _me_ who blurted it out."

"What?"

Tony smiled again, but this time, it was a genuine one that made her insides flutter.

"I've been trying to say it for the past few weeks. I mean, I've obviously felt it for much longer, but I don't know…it just, it seemed too much to jump into right away. Does that make sense?"

She nodded.

"It does."

Tony smiled again and took a sip of his orange juice. Thankfully this time it all went down smoothly.

"Well then it's finally settled and out in the open." He cut a piece of waffle and prepared to eat it. "I love you, Ziva David."

She hid a smile of relief behind her coffee mug.

"I love you, too."

And that was that.

* * *

><p>"Alls I'm saying is that it would be really fun," Abby coaxed.<p>

"Abs, why don't you just ask Ducky? He'd probably be more than happy to have one for you."

Gibbs worked his way around the bullpen, dropping various files on each desk while Abby continued to pitch her idea. This was the third time in two days.

"Gibbs," she whined, "Pleeeease. Just think of how fun it would be to have a barbeque. You can be all manly and grill stuff on the open flame."

At the poor impression, he looked up and raised an eyebrow. Why did they always think they could imitate him?

Abby walked right up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Sooner or later, you'll change your mind. I'm your favorite, remember?"

"Abby—"

She skipped off in her clunky boots and ran into Tony entering the bullpen with Ziva and McGee.

"Whoa, slow down there Abby," Tony whistled. "I'd hate to be run over by those giant boots of yours."

She responded with a giant bear hug and chattered away.

"Did you hear the good news?"

"What?" McGee asked curiously.

Tony nudged McGee.

"I believe she was asking _me_, Probie."

"It pertains to all of us!" she squealed. "Gibbs is having a barbeque for the team this Saturday!"

"Abby!"

She ignored Gibb's shout across the room and continued to ramble on. Gibbs shook his head; she was his favorite, after all. He should have known she'd get what she wanted.

"Gibbs is going to grill up the usual. I'm in charge of my famous ribs and macaroni salad. Ziva, can you bring that chicken you make?"

She cocked her head to the side, but Tony spoke first.

"The lemon one, the baked one or the kebabs?"

Ziva looked panic-stricken and Abby narrowed her eyes.

"How do you know all of those? I only knew about the kebabs."

Ziva regained her composure and jumped in.

"I made the lemon one for Tim's birthday a few years back, and I made the baked for Tony as a thank-you for letting me stay over."

"That's right," McGee vouched. "It was excellent."

Abby seemed suspicious still, but she was too excited about Saturday's plans to question it further.

"Make the kebabs. They'll be easiest to eat. McGee, bring that healthy salad you always bring in for lunch."

"Eww," Tony whined, "broccoli salad? Gross."

Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Tim, it is delicious. Ignore him. Just because he refuses to eat healthy does not mean we all must suffer."

"Fine," Tony huffed, "if that's the case then I'm bringing something deliciously _unhealthy_ for dessert."

Abby's eyes widened.

"That's okay, Tony. You're on chips and drinks duty."

"Hey! I can make something, too."

McGee snorted.

"Yeah, incessant jokes."

Ziva reached out and lightly brushed Tony's hand.

"Tony, bring some drinks and make something for dessert. I will buy the chips."

Tony visibly relaxed next to her, clearly happy that she'd stuck up for him.

"Great!" Abby clapped her hands together. "Everyone knows what they have to bring. Don't forget!"

She scampered along and the team went to each of their desks, Tony grumbling as he threw himself down.

"I can't believe she wouldn't let me cook!"

Ziva pouted her lips in mock pity. While she knew he was really offended, they were at work and she had to continue pretending like she didn't care. It was exhausting.

"Hey Boss," McGee called from his desk.

He took Gibbs's grunt as a response.

"Can I bring Chloe?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Why not, McGee. While you're at it, make sure to invite my mailman."

Tony and Ziva stifled their laughter while McGee shot them confused glances across the room.

"Is that a yes?"

* * *

><p>Ziva's apartment smelled like heaven. Marinated grilled chicken and vegetable kebabs stayed warm in the oven. She'd also made a guacamole dip that Tony insisted on "sampling" every chance he got. Assorted bags of chips and sodas, along with some cases of beer, sat lined up along the door. Tony teased Ziva for sneaking a six-pack of fruity wine coolers in his grocery cart, but she claimed that she'd be driving home and wanted to at least enjoy a drink. Plus, she claimed they were delightful and had a feeling he'd drink more of them than she would.<p>

"Tony, are you sure you would not like some help?" Ziva asked hesitantly. "You are making a bit of a mess in here."

Tony looked up from his bowl of cake mixture. He had food dye on his hands and face. He gave her a determined look and continued stirring.

"I'm fine."

She put a hand on his shoulder gently and tried to take the bowl from him.

"I have a mixer. It would make it easier."

He sighed and relented. He really wanted to make this himself. Though he'd shown Ziva that he could cook, he had yet to bake something successfully—that, and McGee's innocent joke the other day. It bugged him that he couldn't get this right; it was his second attempt at red velvet cake this morning.

"Fine."

She wiped a drop of batter from his cheek. She hummed in contentment as she licked the batter off her slim finger.

"It tastes good so far."

Tony ignored the mixer's obnoxious buzzing and instead stared at Ziva's finger in her mouth. He moved towards her and kissed her slowly, enjoying the taste of the uncooked batter on her tongue. Ziva wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She groaned when he pulled away and resumed watching the mixer.

"Wish I could, Zi, but you caught me at a bad time."

She stood there in astonishment.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Sorry, Sweetcheeks, but this is important. I'm bringing dessert."

She huffed and began to clean some of the mess on her counter.

"We have store bought cookies, too, you know."

He pinched her butt as she sauntered past him. When she turned and gave him a dirty look, he winked.

"Sorry. But baking comes first."

"I will remember that."

Tony gulped.

"Please don't."

She grinned evilly.

"I will start on the icing, yes? Paula Deen's recipe has many ingredients."

In the back of his mind, Tony wondered if he'd just sealed his fate for the next week.

* * *

><p>"You made it!"<p>

Abby charged towards Tony and Ziva, both sets of arms full of food.

"Hello, Abby," Ziva smiled. "Will you get the rest from my car?"

She saluted and opened the doors to Ziva's small car. She grabbed the remaining bags and followed them into the backyard, teeming with laughter. Aromatic smells wafted towards them, and three stomachs growled in unison.

Gibbs manned the grill, working on steaks and burgers. Ducky stood next to him, chattering away. Besides the occasional nod and grunt, Gibbs barely responded.

They spotted Jimmy helping Breena set up a folding table for food.

"Oh hey guys," he smiled brightly. "Just in time."

They unloaded everything and got themselves a drink.

"Where's McDate?"

"Right here, Tony."

There he was, carrying a container filled with food. Chloe stood beside him holding a giant bottle of bourbon.

"Hey, ya'll," she beamed.

Ziva gave Tony a warning glance to be on his best behavior, but it wasn't needed. He gave Chloe a big welcoming hug and a charming smile.

"It's great to see you again, Chloe, especially outside the bar."

"Yes, it is lovely to see you," Ziva smiled.

The group chattered away as McGee introduced Chloe to the rest of the team. Tony had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before he asked her to be his girlfriend, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. While he was thrilled McGee seemed genuinely happy again, was it a good idea for him to jump into something so soon after Maxine?

Tony snuck away and joined Gibbs by the grill. It was just them two, as Ducky couldn't wait to meet the girl who was quickly stealing their Timothy's heart.

"Need some help?"

Gibbs pointed to a pile of raw burgers.

"Put those on, I just cleaned that side of the grill."

"Yes, Boss."

The sizzling of meat was the only noise between them. After a few minutes, Gibbs cleared his throat.

"Saw you baked a cake."

Tony smiled proudly.

"Yep. It took two tries but I finally got it right."

The older agent snorted.

"I bet it was easier with Ziva supervising."

Tony laughed and spoke before he could register his boss's hidden meaning.

"Yeah, totally. She helped with the icing and…"

He stopped talking when he noticed Gibbs staring at him, holding a giant grilling fork.

"Go on."

"Boss?" Tony squeaked.

Gibbs looked at Tony, who'd gone two shades paler and seemed terrified. He shouldn't have to be terrified of being happy. And Gibbs knew he was happy. There was something different about DiNozzo lately, and he had a feeling that it had to do with his best man speech at Palmer's wedding. It pissed him off that his best agents were hiding something from him, and he felt he had every right to give him hell for it. But watching Tony, trembling slightly, gave him a surge of pity and he decided to leave it be. _For now_.

"Ziva obviously helped you, DiNozzo. Hell, _I'd_ need her help to make a cake like that."

Tony's shoulders deflated in what he assumed was relief.

"Oh yeah," he laughed, easing up with every minute that passed. "I called her this morning and she let me use her kitchen."

Gibbs grunted and wondered if his agent had a death wish. He was hoping Tony would say something, come clean, _anything_, but apparently that wouldn't be happening today.

Tony flipped the burgers and sought his mentor's approval.

"What do you think, Boss?"

"Looks good," Gibbs replied, and he wondered if the hurt and disappointment showed on his face.

* * *

><p>"Wow, everything's so great," Breena gushed.<p>

"I agree," Ziva commented. "Gibbs, this coleslaw is delicious."

"Thanks," he nodded curtly. "Shannon's recipe."

The table quieted a bit, and Ziva discreetly placed her hand on his arm. He briefly placed his hand over hers as they remembered the people they'd lost.

She whispered in his ear when no one was looking.

"The kebabs were my sister's favorite."

Gibbs squeezed her hand and let go. Ziva resumed eating, and so did he. Further down the table, McGee and Tony fought over the broccoli salad.

"Come on, Tony," McGee whined, "you've had three helpings so far!"

Tony ignored him and continued to shovel another spoonful on his plate.

"So what?"

Abby laughed.

"Tony, I thought you were grossed out by it."

He shook his head and spoke with a mouthful of food.

"That was then, this is now. I can't believe how good it is."

"And I used turkey bacon and light mayonnaise."

"Don't ruin my food with your healthy secrets, McLightNFit."

Chloe and Palmer laughed. They listened eagerly to Ducky as he remembered a time from his youth where a friend of his went on a diet, but didn't lose any weight because he didn't decrease his salt intake.

The barbeque lasted all day and into the night; it was rare for the team, including Gibbs and Ducky, to stay and enjoy company outside of the office. Drinks were flowing, food was aplenty, and everyone was having a fantastic time. Tony hadn't failed to point out that not a crumb remained of his red velvet cake with marshmallow-coconut cream cheese icing. In fact, he mentioned it the whole way home.

Ziva helped Tony stumble through his apartment, laughing as he insisted he wasn't drunk. When he pinned her against the wall and attacked her with kisses, she couldn't resist giving in.

"I've wanted to do that all day," he groaned into her neck as his hand roamed up and down her sides.

Ziva unbuttoned his shirt and undid his belt buckle. She didn't even notice him grab her by the waist until she wrapped her legs around him and allowed him to lead her towards the bedroom. She cursed in Hebrew as he tripped and banged her head on the wall.

"I knew you were drunk, Tony," she accused between kisses.

"I'm not too drunk," he wiggled his eyebrows and kicked the door open with his foot. They fumbled around until they were both naked on the bed.

"Prove it," she dared.

He did just that.

* * *

><p>It was just a little after eleven that night when the two stumbled out of bed. Ziva threw on one of Tony's old shirts and plopped herself on the couch with a giant glass of wine.<p>

"It is my night to pick the movie," she reminded him gleefully.

He joined her in only his boxers with an ice-cold beer in his hand.

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to punish me?"

She shrugged and clapped her hands as the credits rolled. Tony groaned when he heard Julie Andrews sing.

"Kill me now."

"That can be arranged," she smiled as she leaned her head on his chest.

The movie was only a half hour in, but both Tony and Ziva were already asleep. He was having a great dream about Ziva and the beach when a loud pounding on the door caused him to jump, flinging Ziva to the floor.

"Shit, sorry," he mumbled as he helped his disoriented ninja off the ground and back onto the couch.

The knocking continued, and Tony felt the onset of a headache.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he groaned.

He swung open the door and saw Palmer, completely frazzled and pacing the hallway.

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy ran a hand through his short hair and waltzed into the apartment. He resumed his pacing, completely oblivious to Ziva's presence.

"Hi," he breathed.

Tony could hear his voice tremble.

"You okay, Jimmy?"

Jimmy looked down at his shoes and back up at Tony. He repeated this action three more times before stopping in his tracks and looking Tony in the eye. Whatever it was, it had Palmer completely shook up.

"Jimmy?" Ziva called out, appearing by Tony's side.

She ignored the potential consequences for being seen at his apartment in nothing but Tony's shirt.

"Are you all right?"

Jimmy sat himself on the arm of Tony's couch and stared into space before he answered.

"Breena's pregnant."

* * *

><p><strong>By the way, The broccoli salad is actually pretty fantastic. And Paula Deen really does have a recipe for that red velvet cake w icing. Are you all as hungry as I am after reading that?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, sorry about the cliffhanger. This one's kind of fluff-tastic. I'm sorry I'm not sorry. But I _am_ slightly apologetic that it's not as long as the others.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Tony and Ziva stared at him in shock. They both froze in place, completely unsure of what to do next.

"Come again?"

Jimmy sighed and rubbed his face.

"Breena. She's pregnant."

Tony and Ziva exchanged looks.

"Congratulations?" they ventured hesitantly.

The frazzled married man began to pace again, mumbling to himself. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder cautiously and halted his motions.

"Easy there, Jimmy. You'll wear a hole in the floor."

"Why don't you have a seat?" Ziva guided Jimmy to a kitchen chair and gently forced him down. "And try to start from the beginning."

Tony came to sit beside their friend while Ziva retreated to his bedroom. She sent a quick text message to Breena on Tony's phone. When she reached for it, she realized that Breena had already sent Tony a frantic message in the hopes that Jimmy would turn up there.

_This is Ziva. He just showed up here. Tony is speaking with him right now. Are you all right?_

Breena answered almost instantly and Ziva could almost hear her sigh of relief on the other end.

_Oh thank God. Thanks so much, Ziva. He just ran out after I told him._

She tried to put aside her growing discomfort. Dealing with frantic women was never her strong suit, but this was the wife of a good friend—the _pregnant_ wife of a good friend. She had to put that aside for now and reach out to a woman who was very obviously upset and alone.

_How are you doing?_

_Scared. Please send him home as soon as you can._

_I will do my best._

It was a few more minutes before Tony's phone buzzed again, almost as if she wasn't sure about sending another text.

_Ziva…What am I going to do?_

Ziva ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She looked over and saw Tony place a firm hand on Jimmy's shoulder. Jimmy visibly relaxed, though his face remained tense. She couldn't see what or hear what Tony was saying, but whatever it was seemed to be working. She hoped she could bring some small comfort to Breena.

But where did she begin? Ziva knew that Jimmy loved Breena; it was painfully obvious that the feeling was mutual. They had just committed to a lifetime together a little over a month ago. Now they had something completely unexpected—or what she guessed was unexpected, from Jimmy's reaction—thrown into the mix. Breena's pregnancy was a game-changer.

A small voice, a _very_ small voice, in the back of her head placed herself in Breena's shoes. What would happen if she got pregnant? She was absolutely nowhere near ready to be a mother, and she was pretty sure that Tony felt the same way about being a father. But if Jimmy, a married man, ran for the hills when his wife announced her pregnancy, what were the odds of Tony being there for her should the situation ever arise?

She pushed that doubt out of her mind. This wasn't the time to be worried about what-ifs. She recognized in herself the pattern of finding excuses to push people away, specifically Tony. She'd done it for years. But things were different now. She knew Tony loved her. Why was she torturing herself with hypotheticals when it would only drive her insane?

_We will send Jimmy home as soon as he is in an acceptable state to drive. I do not know how he got here, but I do not think he is ready to go just yet. And the minute you get home, you both will talk it over. You get to express that he hurt you, because he did. And he will express his fears. And you two will work it out together. Because you are partners._

She hoped that response would suffice.

* * *

><p>Tony did his best to calm Jimmy. It wasn't easy; the frazzled Autopsy Gremlin had begun to shake when he sat down. His hands and voice both trembled while he tried to take deep breaths.<p>

"Tony," he squeaked. "We just got married."

Tony nodded.

"I know, bud. I know."

"I'm not ready to be a dad. I mean…I still call my mother when I can't get autopsy stains out of my scrubs!"

Tony didn't doubt that in the slightest.

"I don't think there are a lot of parents who were one-hundred percent ready to be parents when it happened, Jimmy. I think you kind of learn along the way."

Jimmy wiped his forehead.

"What if I never learn?" he whispered in a small voice.

Tony opened his mouth to answer, but changed his mind and remained silent. What was he supposed to say? Should he lie? He was pretty sure he'd be freaking out right about now. There'd probably be some alcohol involved and a few soul-searching shots. He took a deep breath and focused on getting Jimmy back home, where he belonged.

"Jimmy," he said seriously. "Do you love Breena?"

"Of course I do!"

Tony nodded.

"Do you think she knows that right now?"

Jimmy's face paled considerably.

"Oh my God…" he trailed off.

"Look, Jimmy, you're a good guy. I know you love her. _She_ knows that. But from you've shared with me, it seems like she told you she was pregnant and you bolted. I understand that you're scared, hell, I'd probably be too if I were you."

Tony put a finger up to stop his friend from interrupting.

"But I know you love her. And you two wanted kids, right? So what if it's a little earlier than you planned? You guys are being blessed with something that a lot of people don't get to have. It may not fit with your time plan, but when does life ever go exactly the way we want it to?"

As he spoke to Jimmy, thoughts crept into his mind before he had time to stop them. Thoughts of spunky children with bouncy curls and beautiful eyes and mischievous smiles swirled around in his head, and an overwhelming ache hit him like a ton of bricks. Some part of him envied Jimmy. Granted, it was a very small part, but it was there. He had always wanted a family, but now that Jimmy was getting that chance _right now_, he felt a little jealous. Despite the fact that he knew he and Ziva were not planning on being parents any time soon—they hadn't even discussed it—he knew that if it happened to her the way it happened to Breena, he'd be right there. It scared the hell out of him, the idea of a surprise pregnancy, or even a planned one, but he wanted it, and he wanted it with her.

Jimmy seemed to be taking everything in. He pondered Tony's words and hoped the experienced agent knew what he was talking about.

"I really do love her," he added.

"I know," Tony clapped him on the shoulder. "Right now you have to be there for Breena. You guys will figure it out. You'll learn along the way."

Jimmy jumped to attention, filled with a newfound sense of purpose. He had to get home and repair the damage.

"I need to talk to her. I feel so bad."

Tony laughed.

"I don't envy you there. She'll probably be pissed."

He smiled when he saw Jimmy's face drop.

"But she'll understand. This will all work out."

Jimmy embraced Tony in an awkward hug, full of gratitude.

"Thanks, Tony. I'm going to try and fix this whole mess."

"No problem. Good luck."

Jimmy headed towards the front door and spun around.

"What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"She will. You guys are partners. Just show her that you've got her back."

Jimmy nodded purposefully and turned to leave again. He waved over his shoulder and began to close the door behind him. Tony turned to find Ziva when he heard Palmer's voice once more.

"Oh, and Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"When everything cools down with Breena, we're going to talk about why Ziva's practically naked in your apartment."

Jimmy shut the door with a bang and Tony swore.

"Well played, Palmer. Well played."

* * *

><p>Tony found Ziva in the bathroom getting ready for bed. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her nighttime routine.<p>

"How did it go?"

She stopped cleaning her face and waited to hear all the details. She leaned her hip against the counter and held a face cloth in one hand. The sides of her face had remnants of soapy cleanser and the neck of her t-shirt was soaked with water.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Like you weren't listening behind the couch or under a table like the ninja you are."

She frowned and rinsed the last of the cleanser off her face. She responded with her eyes tightly shut as she gently removed any remaining mascara.

"I actually tried not to listen. I thought it best if you talked to him one on one."

"Thanks."

She dried her face with a towel and hopped up on the counter. Her legs dangled off the floor and she swung them back and forth.

"Besides, I had my hands full with Breena."

Tony gave her his most lascivious smile and stalked towards her.

"Reeeally?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I was going to text her and let her know that Jimmy was here, because I am sure she would have been very worried. But she had already texted you, so I answered and tried to…talk to her."

He feigned horror as he stood in between her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he brushed some damp hair from her forehead.

"Your worst nightmare."

She nodded.

"It was…awkward to say the least. But I did my best. I cannot begin to imagine how she felt when Jimmy walked out on her."

Ziva leaned forward and rested her forehead on Tony's chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and she made a content sound in the back of her throat.

"I agree. It probably wasn't his smartest move, but I think he was just scared. I mean, it's Palmer. He's not the most confident guy in the world, you know? And then a month after he gets married, he finds out that he's having a kid? That's bound to shake him up a bit."

He felt Ziva stiffen in his arms. Had he said the wrong thing?

She couldn't believe it. He was defending Jimmy. Was she right all along?

He tilted her chin up and forced her to meet his gaze.

"Hey," he said softly, "I'm not condoning what Jimmy did. I think it was messed up. But I don't think he _thought_. I think he just…_panicked_. "

She nodded but couldn't shake her suspicions. She loosened her face from his grasp and looked away.

"Ziva," he called, but she wouldn't look.

"Ziva."

She looked up at him and his expression took her breath away. His jaw was slack and she knew he'd been going over the words in his head. His eyes implored her to listen, to take him seriously.

"I think what Jimmy did was wrong. If we…" he gulped.

He knew that his next words would take his thing with Ziva to a whole other level—to the future talk, and he wasn't sure she was ready for that. He didn't want to spook her too soon.

"If that ever happened, to us, I mean…if it was a surprise, I…alls I'm saying is that I'd be there. Right by your side, so that we could freak out together."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt her eyes sting. He'd read her mind. He'd been getting so good at that recently.

"Like partners," she whispered, "yes?"

He kissed her forehead.

"Always."

She placed her forehead back on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt him place his chin on her forehead and they remained in their silent embrace for a few more moments.

"Hey Ziva?"

She looked up at him and yawned.

"Yes?"

"Um…I probably shouldn't be bringing this up now, but I mean, I'm kind of a masochist these days so I might as well just come out and say it."

Her face scrunched in confusion.

"Kids," he gulped, "is that…something you'd like to, uh, you know?"

She was overcome with emotion. Just an hour earlier she'd worried that he'd run out on her if she got pregnant. And now, to see that she'd been all wrong…it was a feeling of being loved that settled into her stomach and filled her entire body with gratitude.

"I would like children, Tony," she began hesitantly. She couldn't trust the sound of her own voice.

"Good," he smiled. "Me, too."

It dawned on both of them that they had not only discussed openly to each other that they wanted children, but that they wanted them with each other. Something very poignant passed between them and both could appreciate the emotional gravity of the situation.

A rush of panic surged through Ziva and she jolted in his arms.

"But not yet, Tony," she added hurriedly. "I am not ready yet."

He nodded with relief. _Thank God_.

"But someday, right?"

She smiled and poured all of her hopes and promises for the future into a simple kiss.

"Someday, yes. Children would be nice."

"They'll be knockouts, Zi," he daydreamed.

"They?" she raised her voice.

"Oh yeah," he smiled confidently. "Little whippersnappers."

"Whipper-what?"

He shook his head and laughed.

"They'll give us a run for our money."

"They?"

He laughed again.

"What? You mean you don't want your own baseball team?"

Her expression quickly turned fearful and he rubbed her cheek to calm her down.

"I was only kidding, Zi. But two would be nice."

She thought about it for a long moment. Despite the panic of thinking that far in ahead, she rather enjoyed the image of two little boys, one like Tony and one just like her. She couldn't imagine having a girl. That thought scared her more than the thought of having children.

She realized that she'd been silent for too long when she caught Tony staring at her. He'd been trying to read her thoughts, and she gave him a enigmatic smile. She wasn't ready to admit that she'd just pictured their children in her head. It was too soon. But she liked to know that they both wanted it. Someday. Someday _far_ from now.

They crawled into bed a little while later, exhausted and emotionally drained. Tony turned off the light and wrapped an arm loosely around her waist.

"Night," he whispered and kissed her neck.

"Laila tov," she whispered.

She drifted off to sleep thinking of two little boys playing with a giant dog while she and Tony watched, smiling.

He drifted off to sleep thinking of two little girls twirling on stage while he and Ziva watched, smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>What did you think? Let me know!<strong>

**P.S: I know that it seems Ziva's thoughts are very contradictory, but that's how I see her. I think it's going to take a while before she'll be one-hundred percent confident in her relationship with Tony. She loves him, obviously, but it's Ziva. You can't just erase all of your history with the male sex overnight. Ya dig?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the great responses for last chapter. I'm so glad you are all liking this story. Now, just a forewarning, there are two sets of interactions happening simultaneously. Tony/McGee is happening at the same times that Gibbs/Ziva are. Just in case you get confused. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Jimmy spent the next week making it up to Breena. While she forgave him the same night he returned, remorseful and heartfelt as ever, Jimmy still felt he needed to prove to his wife that he'd be a good dad. He used every spare minute he had at work to read the books he'd bought on fatherhood and expecting a baby.

"Dr. Mallard, did you know that some fathers experience some symptoms of pregnancy?"

Ducky nodded as he continued stitching up the unfortunate Petty Officer who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Yes, I did indeed, Mr. Palmer. It's called "Couvade Syndrome," which is derived from the French verb _couver_, "to hatch" (1). Apparently, the way we use the term now came from the misunderstanding of a French idiom, which meant "to sit doing nothing". Some fathers will experience sympathy pains, and some even get morning sickness."

Jimmy gulped and handed Ducky another surgical instrument.

"I read this morning that there are cases where men can grow a belly and gain up to thirty pounds."

Ducky laughed at Jimmy's panic.

"Mr. Palmer, you must calm down. Breena's not even that far along."

He covered the Petty Officer with a sheet and rinsed his hands at the sink while Jimmy followed, right on his heels.

"Well, she's nine weeks. We're running out of time," he squeaked miserably.

Ducky smiled at the dad-to-be and shook his head.

"Just relax and enjoy the ride. It'll all work out in the end."

Jimmy nodded and wiped his brow.

"I really hope I don't gain weight. Breena's been craving this jam we got on our honeymoon and I've ordered a few boxes for her, but I also placed an order for three jars of the strawberry…"

The medical examiner quietly snuck out of the room and Jimmy noticed his absence only when the doors swooshed shut.

"Oh Mr. Palmer," Ducky sighed. "How will I survive these next thirty weeks?"

* * *

><p>"I just think that they should have stopped after one," McGee chattered as the four of them performed surveillance in the Charger. "Sequels are never as good as the first."<p>

Ziva rolled her eyes. Did McGee really want to get into this right now?"

"That's not true," Tony protested.

Ziva mimicked the words as he said them, because she'd had this conversation with him in her apartment just last week.

"There's _The Godfather_, that was fantastic," he added. "Then there's _Rocky, The Bourne Supremacy, D2: The Mighty Ducks_, which, I'd argue is better than the first."

"_Pirates of the Caribbean_," Ziva interjected. "Johnny Depp is just…" she sucked her teeth and shook her head. "He is something else, yes?"

Tony grunted.

"I don't understand why you're so attracted to a man with lice and deadlocks in his beard."

"It is his…swagger?" she cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, hoping she'd mastered the term.

McGee laughed.

"Chloe has a thing for Orlando Bloom in those movies."

"Of course," Tony snorted.

"Why of course?"

"It's not surprising that she'd like the fresh-faced good guy and not the swashbuckling badass," he remarked.

McGee rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Tony."

Ziva grabbed his arm and gave him a reassuring smile.

"It seems life imitates art, yes? You are far more like Will than Jack. And besides, just remember that the fresh-faced good guy gets to sleep with Keira Knightly," she winked.

McGee mouthed, "Thanks" before Tony could catch wind of their sincere words.

"If we're all done, how about we all shut up and get back to watching the perimeter here?"

"Yes, boss," the trio said in unison.

They entered the abandoned warehouse a half hour later after surveillance assured them that it was still empty.

Gibbs gestured towards the west entrance of the warehouse and McGee followed right behind him. Tony and Ziva silently made their way to the east entrance.

"Hey," Tony whispered as they stalked through the grass, "if we get out at a decent time tonight, do you want to check out that new bistro on your block?"

Ziva nodded.

"That would be nice."

Tony gave her one last smile before they put their game faces on and got ready to enter.

It was quiet when they walked in, guns drawn, and they assumed that their earlier suspicions had been correct: whoever was in charge hid their loot here and wasn't planning on returning till nightfall to get it to avoid being seen. There were wooden crates everywhere, and they had no idea which ones contained the counterfeited currency and which ones contained the drugs.

Tony and Ziva worked quickly and quietly as they went through crate by crate. He finally found something on his eighth try.

"Boss, got the drugs," he whispered into his headset.

_Ziver?_ Gibbs's voice rang through their ears.

"I am trying to locate the money, Gibbs," she whispered as she opened another crate. "Yes, I just found one."

_We're heading your way. _

Tony continued to unveil more of the contraband. Ziva spotted something out of the corner of her eye—a shadowed figure approaching Tony from his right. She tried to get his attention as she slunk closer to him.

"Tony," she whispered.

He was too busy prying open another crate to hear her, and she couldn't raise her voice.

"Tony," she tried again.

He straightened himself up and looked at her, groaning when he realized that he'd hurt his back from bending over for so long.

"Tony!" she shouted.

She had watched the man approach from behind Tony the whole time—her eyes never left his, and he stared her down as they approached each other. Her only thoughts were to cover Tony's back, to keep him safe, while he had his guard down. She didn't care if she splattered the crook's brains all over the warehouse. There were times like this—when the people she loved were in danger—where she reverted back to her time in Mossad. _Whatever means necessary_.

Tony looked over his shoulder just in time to see Ziva leap forward and get a swing in. The stranger fought back, and Tony tried to jump in. He called for backup and heard Gibbs yelling in his ear.

_Hold on! We're almost there!_

He shouted once more and tried to pry the man off Ziva, but he was surprised at his raw strength. The stranger's muscular arm swung back and knocked the wind out of Tony, slamming him into a stack of crates. His head bounced back from the force and slammed into the crates again. He sunk to the floor in a heap.

"Tony!" Ziva screamed and continued to fight.

Ziva got in another punch and tried to scan the area for her weapon, which had been knocked from her hands almost instantly. The man was twice her size, and for once, she felt a bit in over her head.

He launched his fist across her face, and she heard a loud, sickening crack. He'd broken her nose and even managed to get her in the eye, but she continued to fight him until she could wrangle him into an advantageous position. She reached for her backup just as he took another swing at her face. She kneed him in the groin and thrust the butt of her gun into his head. He fell to his knees, disoriented.

"Ziva!"

Gibbs and McGee raced to the scene, doubled over and panting. She cuffed her opponent and hit him once more with the butt of her gun for good measure.

Gibbs cradled her face in his hands while he examined the damage. She winced as he touched her badly bruised eye.

"Your nose is broken," he said worriedly.

"It is not so bad," she wheezed. "How is Tony?"

Gibbs could see the raw panic in her eyes, and instantly he knew what had happened. He swore internally; maybe he should've said something to them sooner. This was precisely the reason he made this rule in the first place.

McGee knelt beside Tony as he regained consciousness. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head.

"Ouch," he muttered.

"You okay, Tony?"

Tony looked up to see McGee's worried eyes and thought the worst.

"Ziva!"

McGee placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and eased him back to the ground.

"Calm down, Tony," he said in a kind but firm voice. "She's over there."

He pointed to Gibbs and Ziva as the older agent used his sleeve to clean up her face. They heard Ziva release a string of profanities in foreign languages when he got too close to her nose.

"Tony, what happened?"

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the searing pain in his head. He was almost positive he'd gotten a concussion, or at the very least a nasty lump.

"I was opening those damn crates and I leant into one. I guess she saw someone coming and tried to get my attention. The next thing I knew she went all ninja on him. I called for you guys right away. It was too risky to try and shoot him, he and Ziva were fighting and I couldn't take the chance of shooting her by mistake. I thought if I could distract him or get him off her, maybe she could…"

He shook his head and groaned at the sensation. Oh yeah, he definitely had a concussion. "One of his big tree trunk arms swung back and slammed me into these guys right here." He patted the crates behind him. "Knocked me out cold."

McGee jotted everything down as fast as he could. Tony finally caught view of Ziva and grimaced when he saw the state of her face.

"What happened to her?" Tony asked frantically.

"He broke her nose. Her eye's pretty banged up, but I think Gibbs is more worried about her nose."

"Well duh, McMedic," he snapped. "It's in two different directions, for Christ's sake!"

He propelled himself from the floor, swaying as he did so and ignoring McGee's protests. He charged towards Ziva the minute Gibbs left to check on the paramedics' whereabouts.

"What the hell, Ziva?" he growled.

He almost felt guilty as he towered over her, her nose seeping blood, but his nerves were frayed and his head hurt like hell and all he kept imagining was her dead because he couldn't get to help her in time.

She blinked and looked up at him through her one good eye.

"Are you okay, Tony?"

Tony's anger deflated when he noticed her genuine concern. She was the one bleeding and bruised, but she was still asking about his welfare. He give the area a quick scan and when he thought it was safe, he brushed his thumb along the good side of her face.

"I'm fine. How are you?" he asked tenderly.

"I am fine as well," she smiled bravely. "He was not so bad."

At the mention of her fight, Tony's anger returned in full force.

"Do you realize how stupid you were? Why didn't you tell me that he was right behind me? You could've been killed, Ziva!"

Ziva's eye narrowed and he watch her face harden.

"I tried to get your attention," she hissed. "I called your name but you were too busy in that damn box!" She threw her arms in the air and winced with pain. "Excuse me for having your back, Tony. Excuse me for protecting you!"

The fight wasn't helping Tony's headache one bit. It only made his temples throb and the lump on the back of his head pounded repeatedly. He saw spots in front of his eyes but focused on Ziva's face.

"You took him on yourself. You jumped in front of me and tackled a man twice your size. What the hell were you thinking? Why would you do something that stupid, _that dangerous_?"

Ziva's face fell and she allowed him a small smile. She stood on her tiptoes and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Couldn't live without you, I guess."

Her words knocked the wind out of him, and he felt himself lose the battle to his concussion.

"Damnit, Ziva," he whispered, and fell to his knees.

"McGoo, go get the medics."

Ziva ended up on the floor with an unconscious Tony in her lap. She tried to wake him up but also focused on her nose. It was only a few more minutes before the paramedics arrived and helped the agents into their truck.

* * *

><p>"You really don't have to stay here all night, you know."<p>

McGee dropped his bag by Tony's door.

"It's fine. The doctor said you need to stay up, and since you refused to stay in the hospital, I have to make sure you don't fall asleep."

Tony whined.

"But I don't need you to stay here, McGee."

_I need to see Ziva. I can't sleep without her now_.

"Tough. It's either me or Abby. And you know how Abby can get when one of her friends is hurt…"

Tony shivered at the thought. She'd be hovering over him with the best intentions, but it would take all of his patience not to yell at her, which would end in tears, and it was altogether a situation he wanted to avoid.

"Oh alright," he grumbled. "But I'm picking the movies."

McGee rolled his eyes.

"Of course you are."

"Damn straight!" he shouted as he walked towards his bedroom. "Call for a pizza, would you?"

He closed the door and dialed the familiar number, waiting to hear her voice.

"Hello?"

He sighed in relief. It still scared him that he came close to losing her today.

"Hey," he smiled. "How are you?"

"Tonyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy," she drew out. "Hellooooooooooo."

He couldn't fight the laugh that bubbled out of him. How did he forget that she'd be on painkillers?

"How are you, Zi?"

"Did you know that Gibbs kidnapped me?"

He laughed again.

"I don't think he did, Zi. I think you're staying with him for the night."

"He kidnapped me, Tony!" she shouted frantically. "Come and get me!"

He heard a muffled voice and Ziva's protests before Gibbs took the phone from his very high patient.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked. "What do you want?"

"I, uh, was just checking on Ziva, boss. How's she doing?"

Gibbs sighed. Tony guessed she'd been difficult.

"She's doped up and can't keep her mouth shut," he said gruffly, but Tony could hear the tenderness in his words.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed. "What has she been saying?"

"Enough," he barked. "As soon as your head heals I'm going to slap you so hard you'll be concussed all over again."

Tony coughed uncomfortably at the thought.

"Uh, got to go, Boss. Pizza's here."

He snapped the phone shut and said a quick prayer that he'd die tonight to spare himself the wrath of Gibbs.

"Tony?" he heard McGee shout.

"Yeah?" he answered loud enough to hear through the door.

"Pepperoni?"

"Did you really just ask me that?"

"Right, sorry."

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I miss Ziva."

* * *

><p>"Easy, Ziver," Gibbs advised as he helped Ziva into his home. "You're still a bit unsteady on your feet."<p>

She smiled at him, a big cheesy smile that scrunched her small nose up and made her eyes shut tightly.

"Ay, ay Gibbs," she giggled as she followed him into the living room.

She plopped into one of his couches and turned on the television, a small, ancient-looking device that he'd been kind enough to bring upstairs for her. She groaned when she realized that there was no cable.

"What is it?" Gibbs rushed back in to see what happened. "Are you okay?"

"I cannot watch _The Real Housewives_! There is a new episode that starts in fifteen minutes!"

Gibbs looked at her with disbelief. He had _never_ heard Ziva David whine before.

"What?"

She exaggerated her sigh and dropped her arms at her sides. She shook her head and mumbled something in Hebrew.

"This is torture! You are torturing me!"

"Abby lent me her DVD player. She left you some movies as well."

Ziva's good eye lit up with excitement—her other remained swollen and shut. Bruises covered her cheekbones. The doctor had mentioned that she'd also had some bruised ribs. She was a complete wreck.

"Thank you, Gibbs. I like movies."

Gibbs kissed her forehead and let her pick one to watch. He set it up for her and went to leave the room, but she stopped him.

"Will you watch it with me?"

He turned to look at her, so small and fragile on the couch, and a part of his heart broke all over again. What would Kelly have been like at Ziva's age? Would she have been more like Ziva, or more like Abby? Maybe she'd have Abby's capacity to love and Ziva's capacity to survive. Or maybe she'd mimic Ziva's quiet affection and Abby's loud zest for life. He watched Ziva yawn and toss her arms over her head. She smiled at him and patted the spot beside her.

_So much like Kelly_, he thought.

"I picked a spy-ish movie, you will like it, too. I promise."

"I've seen this before, Ziver. It's older than you."

"It is one of my favorites," she gushed. "Carey Grant is just superb."

Gibbs smiled.

"Do you like Hitchcock's stuff or just Carey Grant?"

"Oh, I love them both!" she replied excitedly. "_North by Northwest_ is probably my favorite though. A close second would be _Rear Window_, even though that's James Stewart. But I love Carey Grant in all of his movies!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. He didn't want to know where she learned all about movie trivia. He had a pretty good hunch.

He watched a giant smile play at her lips while she got lost in a memory. He had a pretty good hunch he knew who was in that, too.

"My sister liked to watch American movies," she said with a faraway look in her eye. "She did not watch a lot of them, but she loved Grace Kelly. She saw _To Catch a Thief_ at least fifteen times."

Well, he hadn't expected _that_.

"I always preferred to read, as did Ari, but we watched them with her anyway. We would do anything for her."

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably beside her. It wasn't often she mentioned Ari—in fact, she never mentioned him, and this was now the second time in a two week span where she referenced Tali. As much as he hated Ari, he knew that he meant something to Ziva, and he also knew that she adored her younger sister. He felt honored when she shared glimmers of her past with him.

His discomfort increased when he realized that she'd stopped talking. He knew what that meant—she was waiting for him to share something, too.

"Kelly liked _Cinderella_," he responded gruffly.

She nodded and yawned. When she rested her head on his shoulder, he had to swallow the lump in his throat and fight the tears in his eyes. It was such a simple, yet incredibly tender gesture, and it still shocked him when he realized how very capable Ziva was of giving them.

"Do you know who else likes movies?"

"Who?"

She lifted her head up and smiled cheekily.

"Tony."

"Oh boy."

She frowned.

"Where is Tony?"

"He's at home," he sighed. "He has a concussion, remember?"

She frowned again.

"I tried to protect him."

Gibbs brushed some hairs from her face.

"I know you did, Ziver."

She remained quiet as she replayed today's events with her hazy filter. She frowned again.

"Who is staying with him?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"McGee."

She shook her head and tried to stand up.

"I should be with him."

He gently forced her back down and sighed. Despite the fact that she was doped up, she remained as stubborn as ever. Sometimes there was just no use arguing with her.

"McGee is watching him, he'll be fine. You need to rest, too. You've got some bad injuries."

Ziva looked him in the eye, her most lucid expression since on painkillers.

"I love him," she stated. She left little room for objection.

"I figured," he sighed.

"He loves me, too, you know," she added with sass, and he couldn't help but laugh. It was something that Kelly definitely did from time to time.

"I know."

"You are not happy with us," she frowned and yawned again.

"I'm disappointed, because stuff like today can happen when you're involved with your partner."

She snorted in protest.

"I would have done that for you, or McGee, in a heartbeat. My instinct to act was just sped up. But I would have done it either way, Gibbs. Do not doubt that I would protect all of you."

He sighed.

"I know you'd do anything for us, but you barely thought today. You jumped in the line of fire for Tony. And I have no doubt in my mind that it had to do with the fact that you love him."

Ziva huffed.

"That is not true," she lied.

"Ziva," he began cautiously, afraid of upsetting her when they'd made such emotional strides thus far. "I just think it's not a smart move."

"I do not care, Gibbs!" She shouted. "I love him. He loves me. We will not wait any longer. I thought that you would support me," she added in a small voice.

Gibbs ran his hands over his face.

"I do."

"Then do not force us apart."

"Wasn't going to," he retorted.

She threw her hands up in frustration.

"Then what was the point of that?"

He smiled and shrugged.

"I needed to test you, see how serious you were. This may not be the right move for most agents, but it's the right move for you two."

She nodded with satisfaction.

"I know that already."

He smiled again.

"I know."

Her phone rang and she answered it, effectively ending the conversation.

"Hello?"

* * *

><p>Tony sat on his couch, munching on his third slice of pizza. McGee sat dutifullyby his side as they watched <em>Ocean's 11<em>.

"Wouldn't it be so cool to be in the Rat Pack?"

Tony turned his head and stared at McGee in shock.

"Tim, I think that had to be the best statement that's ever come out of your mouth."

He smiled brightly.

"Really?"

Tony nodded and took a giant bite.

"Really."

McGee smiled to himself and picked up his second slice.

"Where's Chloe tonight?"

"She's closing," he told him with a mouthful of food. "We're grabbing lunch tomorrow."

"Sounds nice."

"Sarah and I are having dinner next week. I was thinking about taking Chloe, too."

"Big step," Tony mused. "Meeting the family. Congratulations are in order."

McGee looked a little perplexed.

"I guess. I hope they get along."

"They will."

"What if they don't?"

Tony took another bite as he thought about the solution to his friend's hypothetical problem. He realized he didn't have one.

"They will. Chloe's fun, and nice. Your sister will like her, and she'll like Sarah."

McGee made a face and resumed eating.

"Abby liked her."

This got Tony's attention.

"I noticed. She was pretty friendly to her at the barbeque."

McGee laughed.

"I didn't think they'd get along, to be honest."

"Me neither."

They remained in companionable silence for a little while longer when McGee bolted from the couch.

"You okay?"

He came back with a hairbrush he'd spotted on the bookshelf.

"Whose is this?"

"Mine," Tony smiled. "I'm trying out a new look. They say brushing really helps soften your hair."

"Brushing it too often makes it oily," McGee responded automatically and cursed himself seconds later when Tony's gleeful smile caught up to him.

"And how would you know, McPanteneProBie?" he chuckled. "Get it? Did you see what I did there?"

McGee rolled his eyes.

"I have a sister, and a girlfriend you know. And I think this is from that secret lady friend of yours."

Tony sighed.

"Okay, fine. It's hers. Now put it back before she threatens to bludgeon me with it."

McGee obeyed and placed the item back where he found it. Then he froze in place.

"What's wrong now?"

McGee turned around to display his triumphant expression. In that instant, Tony knew exactly why McGee was smiling. The jig was up.

"McGee," Tony stood and approached him warily. "Please don't do anything rash…"

His smile spread from ear to ear.

"_Ziva_ is your mystery woman."

"Tim…"

"Ziva is your mystery woman!" McGee taunted. "You're dating Ziva!"

His smile was quickly replaced with a frown.

"Wait a minute. You've been dating her for a while now. Why am I only finding about this?"

Tony sighed. He could see the hurt on his friend's face and felt incredibly guilty, especially since they'd bonded that night at the bar.

"We didn't tell anyone," he justified. "We wanted to keep it a secret as long as possible…you know, test out the waters. We didn't want anyone to know in case it didn't work."

"What makes you so sure it's going to work now?"

Tony smiled as he thought about her and their future together.

"It's going to work," he assured his friend. "We love each other. Have for a every long time."

McGee smirked.

"Well I'm glad you two finally admitted it. And I'd just like to point out that I was right. You two were always made for each other. Thom E. Gemcity misses nothing."

Tony rolled his eyes but felt a familiar swell of affection in his heart. Tim was such a great friend.

"Yeah, yeah McSeesItAll. You were right. Congratulations."

McGee smiled conspiratorially.

"Does Gibbs know?"

Tony gulped.

"Apparently, doped up Ziva spilled the beans tonight. And I think Jimmy's starting to put the pieces together. When he told me Breena was pregnant, Ziva was here, in nothing but a shirt."

McGee's cheeks turned a deep shade of scarlet before he gasped audibly.

"Did you tell Abby?"

Tony snorted.

"Of course not."

"She's now the last one to know."

He gulped again.

"She's going to boil me from the inside out."

McGee smiled.

"I hope I get to watch."

* * *

><p>Gibbs turned off the movie when her snoring reached a steady roar. He'd given her another dose of painkillers, a stronger one to help her sleep, not even fifteen minutes ago and they'd already kicked in.<p>

Unwilling to wake her, he scooped her tiny frame off the couch and carefully walked upstairs. He placed her in the bed and tucked her in, running a gentle hand through her hair. She still looked so young, but she'd been through so much.

He thought back to what they'd discussed earlier. He wasn't sure if she'd remember it, despite her moments of lucidity, but he hoped she did. They'd overcome another hurdle tonight and he felt closer to her than ever before. And although he wanted to smack them both silly for breaking rule number twelve, he knew Tony and Ziva were making the right call. They loved each other. And if this was their chance for a love like his and Shannon's, who was he to stand in their way?

He kissed her cheek and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"Night, Ziver," he whispered and closed the door to Kelly's room for the first time in many, many years.

* * *

><p><strong>(1) I got my research on Couvade Syndrome from Wikipedia. Just in case you thought I made it up.<strong>

**Well...what did y'all think? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow! Such great feedback for Chapter 6. I really loved that chapter, too, and I'm glad you all liked it. This one is just a bunch of filler, really. But I had to tie up some loose ends so I figured I'd just get it out now. **

**Also, I just wanted to point out that I think Abby wouldn't necessarily be the first to know if Tony and Ziva got together on the big screen. I think she'd _suspect_ it, sure, but I really don't think she'd be privy to that right away. I think it'd be Palmer or McGee showing up at the wrong place, wrong time. It'd be awkward and there would totally be some comic relief in there. I just thought I'd try to explain my decision to leave her till the end. And Ducky...well, Ducky's been shipping those two since the days of Jeanne.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

Ziva had been confined to desk duty for the next few days; after two at home, she insisted she be allowed back into the office for fear of losing her mind. She'd also been growing tired of the silent competition between Gibbs and Tony during her sick leave. Tony hadn't left her apartment since he got his medical clearance, and Gibbs insisted he personally bring his probationary agent back to her place to keep an eye on her there. That's exactly what he did—he watched Tony fluff pillows, make dinner, and even clean her apartment when she passed out from the painkillers. Apparently, as Tony claimed, Gibbs stared him down until Tony finally broached the elephant in the room. Gibbs hadn't put up a fight because he assured Tony that she had put up one big enough for the both of them, but that he was weary nonetheless. He'd warned Tony about hurting her, and when Tony mentioned that he felt that Gibbs was speaking more as a father and less as a boss, she couldn't stop the tears that welled in her eyes. She chose not to explain her moment with Gibbs, as she felt it was important she kept it private, but Tony could sense that something had changed.

She slowly made her way out of the elevator, careful not to jostle her ribs. A dull ache still remained and she reluctantly wondered if she should still be at home. Her eye was an ugly shade of purples and blues, and her nose had seen better days. But she couldn't take another day of being doted on at home. She refused. She'd been far more injured in her days at Mossad and she got through just fine without help.

"Ziva!"

She smiled warily as Abby jumped up and down.

"Hello, Abby."

Her hyper friend saw that it wasn't a smart move to hug her, and she very thoughtfully shut off her music.

"How are you feeling? You really shouldn't be in today, you know," she scolded mildly.

Ziva resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If she had a nickel for every time she'd heard that this morning…

"Ducky gave me clearance to sit behind my desk. I am not allowed in the field for another few days. I am okay, really."

She handed Abby an evidence bag of shell casings and watched as she eagerly examined them through the plastic.

"Tony and McGee found these at Corporal Fitzgerald's home," she explained. "Can you run these and see if they came from the same weapon used to kill him?"

Abby nodded.

"Sure thing, Ziva. I'll get started right away."

"Thank you. I believe McGee is on his way down with your Caf-Pow. I did not have any singles on me."

She didn't need to mention that the smell of them still turned her stomach from time to time—it was understood. But she loved Abby all the more for humoring her and the excuses she fabricated. By doing so, Abby saved her friend what she felt was the embarrassment of having to admit what was sometimes painfully obvious, that even the toughest people carry scars that never fully heal.

"No problem!" she chirped. "I'm only a quarter of the way through this one."

Ziva nodded and turned her attention towards Abby's desk. She knew there was a futon in there, and Gibbs had instructed her to take her lunch—maybe it would be good to get in a quick nap.

"Ziva?"

She jumped slightly and gave Abby an apologetic smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She yawned and shook her head.

"I am fine, just a bit tired. I am supposed to be taking lunch, but would you mind if I took a nap on your futon?"

Abby couldn't mask her surprise. It wasn't often Ziva admitted that she needed to take a break. Nevertheless, she ushered her into the quiet room and set up the futon. She gave Ziva pillows and a blanket and promised she'd wake her up when someone came looking for her.

About an hour later Tony waltzed into the lab with a Caf-Pow in hand. He'd gotten Ziva's text about taking a nap and had specific instructions to wake her as soon as she was needed. When Gibbs began asking her whereabouts for help with an interrogation, Tony took on the burden of waking the sleeping ninja. He found Abby dancing away in her lab with giant, red headphones covering her ears. It clicked only after he saw her that she'd turned the music off for Ziva.

He took the opportunity to sneak up behind Abby and grab her shoulders. She jumped off the ground with a yelp and Tony himself got so startled he almost dropped her drink. She glared at him momentarily and snatched the Caf-Pow.

"You scared the crap out of me, Tony!" she gasped. "You're lucky you came bearing gifts."

Tony flashed her his most charming smile and then burst into laughter. She shoved his arm playfully but soon joined in.

"Abs, your platforms were like two inches off the ground!"

Abby rolled her eyes.

"I just finished matching those casings. They're from the same gun that killed Corporal Fitzgerald."

Tony nodded; they'd had a hunch the results would lean that way.

"So whoever murdered him planted those shells in his house," Tony surmised.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she shrugged. "But if that's what the Bossman is thinking then we're probably on the right track."

They high-fived each other for a job well done. Abby slurped her drink happily and answered a text on her phone. Tony peered through her glass office but couldn't spot Ziva.

"Do you have to wake her?"

Tony looked back at Abby's hopeful face. She sounded like a young child when she was told she had to leave the playground.

"Sorry Abs," he sighed, "but someone much scarier than me wants to make use of her linguistics expertise."

She huffed.

"I just think she needs some more rest. I can tell that she's still sore."

Tony couldn't disagree with her. He refused to mention that Ziva also had problems breathing because of her nose, and it made sleeping even more difficult to do in her presence.

"She's stubborn. We've just got to let her do it her way, you know?"

Abby rolled her eyes and Tony simply shrugged. He made his way into the other room to wake Ziva.

Abby took the opportunity to spy on them as she watched from her spot in the lab. She hacked into her camera footage hoping to catch them in the act. Her knack for lip-reading only facilitated her espionage. Her suspicions about them together grew every day and it bothered her that she didn't have a definite answer either way. McGee had suddenly blushed at her crazy hypotheses instead of dismissing them, which definitely sounded alarm bells in her head.

Abby watched as Tony knelt beside Ziva and said her name. When she didn't stir after the third time, he leaned over her and licked the side of her face. Abby couldn't help but notice that Tony must know Ziva better than she thought; he dodged out of the way about a millisecond before Ziva shot up, avoiding another broken nose. She blinked in confusion before she finally registered him there and he greeted her cheerfully.

_Wake up sleepyhead._

Her smile grew as she traced the outline of his face with her finger. She ran it down his nose and yanked it hard enough that he let out a yelp. She spoke fast, and from what Abby could read, she was annoyed for being woken up from her nap. She also threatened to extend their dry spell if he did it again. The affectionate smile on his face told Abby that he hadn't believed her for one second, especially when he met his lips with hers. It lasted no more than a second, but both looked very willing to prolong its duration. She noticed that their hands had been intertwined the whole time, and he used it to pull her off the futon.

Abby watched Ziva struggle painfully to fix her mussed hair. Tony eased her arms down and very tenderly loosened her hair from its elastic confine. She closed her eyes as he buried his face in her tresses, and if Abby had blinked she most certainly would have missed it.

She had to give credit where credit was due. _They were damn good at being subtle_.

Tony's big fingers effortlessly weaved Ziva hair into a braid and fastened it at the bottom. Abby watched her carefully feel his work and smile in approval. It certainly didn't look like she'd done it, but it wasn't bad at all. They smiled at each other once more and went back to being as appropriately inappropriate as they could manage.

Tony whistled a tune as he left the lab, tipping his imaginary hat to Abby. He mouthed goodbye, completely unaware that there was in fact no music coming from her earphones and that she watched everything that transpired in the past five minutes.

The hurt of being kept out of the loop quickly turned to anger and she hardly even noticed that she'd been banging the keyboard with her fingers until Ziva tried to pull them away.

"Abby," she began cautiously, "is everything all right?"

Abby turned and stared her down. She squinted her eyes and watched with sadistic pleasure when Ziva looked completely flabbergasted.

"Abby?"

Abby used her remote to lock the doors to her lab. She stalked right up to Ziva and glared angrily.

"How could you?"

Ziva blinked.

"I do not know what you are talking about, Abby, I have been napping for a little over an hour."

Abby's eyes narrowed and growled in frustration.

"Come on, Ziva! I know everything. The cat's out of the bag."

Ziva pinched the bridge of her nose in confusion. Her exhaustion and pain didn't help her think clearly at all.

"Abby, I do not—"

"You and Tony!" she shouted. "I saw everything just now."

Ziva's face blanched.

"Abby, I can explain."

"Well you better start then!" she demanded. "I knew, _I knew_ that something was going on after that night at the bar. But you both lied to my face!"

"Abby," sighed, "we just started seeing each other. We did not want everyone to know."

"McGee knows," she insisted. "I know he does. And if he doesn't, then he's got a feeling. And Palmer's been all squirrely when I bring it up. I wouldn't be surprised if Gibbs knew!"

When Ziva's expression morphed into guilt, Abby felt her all of her anger dissolve. Back again was the hurt of being left out of something important by her friends.

"I'm your friend," she whispered. "I thought that we were friends."

"We are!" Ziva insisted. "Tony and I care about you very much. It was hard to keep this from you."

"Then why did you?"

Ziva sighed. This was Tony's area of expertise not hers. It was hard for her to confide in Abby. She sometimes wondered if Kate's ghost would always stand in between them.

"I…I am not good at trusting women. I have never had a close friend. I had my sister…" she trailed off.

Abby leaned forward.

"You had a sister?"

Ziva's bottom lip trembled but she was determined to keep her resolve. She wouldn't cry in Abby's arms. That just wasn't who she was.

"Yes. She was younger than me, taken from us much too soon by the unavoidable violence of our region. Hamas claimed her life before she had a chance to fully live it." Ziva shook her head. "She was so innocent, so pure…she would not have turned out the way we did."

Abby didn't need to ask what she meant by "we".

"After she died, I lost the closest thing I had to a female best friend. In my line of work, trusting others, having deep personal ties would get you, and them, killed. It made you susceptible to leverage. It was too costly."

Ziva stubbornly wiped a tear from her eye.

"I have found it very difficult to break that habit, Abby, even after all these years. And let's face it," she laughed darkly. "You were not exactly the most welcoming when I got here."

Abby bowed her head as she shuffled her feet uncomfortably. Ziva placed a gentle hand on her wrist. This wasn't about making her feel guilty.

"You have since shown me that you care very deeply for me. I feel the same about you. But I wonder if our friendship has always been hindered by Kate," she admitted. "I know I am not the most outwardly affectionate person, but I care for you. And it hurts me sometimes when I feel as though you invite me to things as an afterthought or last resort. I have a hard time reaching out to you, but I had so much fun spending time with you that night. I am trying my hardest to break this habit, Abby. I wish for us to be closer. But I could not bring myself to gossip with you about my relationship with Tony. I…I love him," she rushed out, "and I did not want it to turn into a big deal. We wanted to maintain our privacy while we figured things out."

Abby didn't look pleased with that answer.

"The only reason I don't ask you to do stuff with me is because I don't think you'd want to."

Ziva protested, but Abby stopped her with a look.

"I had to beg you to go to Brain Matter and entice you with the option of meeting up with everyone afterwards."

It was Ziva's turn to seem uncomfortable again.

"Abby, that concert was not my thing, but I liked that we spent time together," she explained. "Maybe we could try to do something that we both enjoy and work from there, yes?"

Abby pondered the suggestion and smiled mischievously.

"We could go to the shooting range. Or play a game of paintball. And then maybe we could get some dinner and drinks afterwards?"

Ziva nodded.

"That sounds like fun. But what is paintball?"

Abby's grin widened and she explained the game to Ziva in great detail. Ziva listened with sincere interest. They planned an outing together during the weekend and Ziva felt like things were on a different track with them, a more hopeful and honest track that could one day lead to having a best friend.

"I really am sorry for not telling you, Abby. We both are. The only person I told willingly was Gibbs, and I do not know if I could even call it willingly because I was under the influence of painkillers. Apparently, he already knew before I told him. Tim figured it out at Tony's apartment, and Jimmy caught us together the night he told us that Breena was pregnant. And I have a feeling Ducky knows, because he knows everything."

Abby trapped Ziva in a hug, one that Ziva slowly began to return.

"I'm so happy for you two," she gushed. "I talked to Tony at Jimmy's wedding and I hoped so badly that he'd be honest with you."

"Really?"

Tony hadn't mentioned that.

She nodded.

"He cares a lot about you, Ziva. He'd do anything for you."

Ziva gave her a small smile.

"And I would for him."

"So…you really love him, huh?"

"Yes, I really do," she laughed. "It is very refreshing to get that out, to confide in someone."

The words weren't lost on Abby. She scooped Ziva in for one more hug before she let her leave the lab.

* * *

><p>"So you spilled the beans to Abby."<p>

Ziva rolled her eyes as they waited on line at the theater.

"I would hardly say I spilled the beans," she scoffed. "She saw us today and put everything together. I just straightened up the loose ends."

"Tied up," Tony corrected as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

"What?"

"She _tied up_ loose ends."

"Whatever," she dismissed. "But it is settled now. She is just happy to be in on our secret."

Tony laughed and grabbed her hand. His heart fluttered when he felt her lace her fingers though his.

"I don't think it's a secret anymore, Zi. Everyone knows."

"I do not think Ducky knows."

Tony nodded.

"He asked me how my dear Ziva was holding up. He also added that he suspected I would be taking good care of you after work, and threw in one of those Ducky winks where he knows exactly what's going on but doesn't want to say it loud." He shook his head. "Crafty Scotsman."

A small smile grew on Ziva's face as she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"We will not have to hide it anymore."

Tony's eyes glittered with excitement as he stared back at her. She looked so happy, so light, and he never wished to take that from her. Moments like these made him wonder if this was the Ziva "that could have been," the Ziva that could have existed all the time had she not lived the life she did. He somehow believed that _his_ Ziva was better for every hardship she endured and every ghost living in her closet.

He leaned forward and kissed her with everything he had. He heard her sigh into his mouth and kissed him back fervently. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, with little regard to the people surrounding them. There were still four people ahead of them on line—they had a few minutes to spare.

"Tony? Ziva?"

They pulled apart instantly at the sound of the familiar voices. Ziva blushed furiously as Tony chuckled.

"Well, the gang's all here now," he added flippantly. "Is it double date night?"

"Actually, it'd be triple date now," Palmer correctly with a nervous laugh. "What a coincidence, spotting you here."

"I had no idea you two were an item," Chloe chirped happily. "This is so exciting!"

"Very exciting," McGee smirked.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three couples. After a few minutes of painfully awkward tension, Ziva smiled and tried to change the subject.

"You look great, Breena."

Breena placed her hand on a bump that had yet to form.

"Thanks! We're so excited."

Jimmy cleared his throat.

"So, are you going to see the new Woody Allen, too?"

Ziva heard Tony's inaudible groan. It appeared they'd all be in the same movie.

"Yes we are," she answered. "The 8:35 show?"

Jimmy nodded excitedly.

"You can join us!"

"Not so fast, Palmer," Tony shook his head. "We haven't bought our ticket yet. They might be sold out," he added hopefully.

It was their turn at the box office and Ziva ordered their tickets. To Tony's dismay, the show hadn't sold out. He handed the lady his card and paid for them, grumbling to himself. Ziva pinched him on his side and hissed in his ear.

"We have to do this, do not make it harder than it is."

"I have absolutely no desire to spend our first date since forever in a sixsome."

She raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I thought Tony DiNozzo was adventurous."

He rolled his eyes.

"No way, David, you're not going to lure me with your womanly charms and get what you want this time."

She snorted in protest.

"I do not want this, Tony. But they are our friends. And it will be less painful if we nod and smile. This was bound to happen eventually."

Tony kissed her cheek.

"I'm sorry we didn't get our date night. I owe you."

She squeezed his hand and winked.

"I will collect. But for now we have to grin and bear it, yes?"

Tony sighed wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Yes dear."

* * *

><p>The couples parted ways after a bite to eat at a nearby diner. Jimmy and Breena headed into her silver Jeep, while McGee and Chloe walked back to her place, which was just a few blocks away. Tony and Ziva took their time as they strolled back to his car, hand in hand.<p>

"That was not so bad," Ziva admitted. "They were actually pretty delightful."

Tony reluctantly conceded.

"To be honest, that _was_ kind of fun. It was…nice to do that, be all coupley."

"I do not think we will ever be that coupley, Tony. It is not our nature."

"I know, but it was still nice. I enjoyed that we got to hang out with our friends and not have to hide anything. We just got to be Tony and Ziva. It was freeing."

"I agree."

"McGee wants to do a game night next time," Tony said in horror.

Ziva laughed.

"That is a bit too domestic for our taste."

"Thank God," he sighed. "I just don't think I could do it."

She laughed again, nudging Tony playfully with her side.

"Besides, I think I would have to bludgeon McGee with the Pictionary timer. He is too much of a stickler for the rules. The last time we played we argued for fifteen minutes over the authenticity of my sheep drawings. I mean, how hard is it to draw sheep?"

"You'd be surprised, Zi. Sheep are a very hard animal to capture," he said in mock seriousness.

She rolled her eyes and he teased her the whole way back to the car. The sounds of "baas" echoed down the alleyway as they sped off into the night.

* * *

><p>When they got to Ziva's apartment, they settled themselves in her bed. Tony had moved her television into her bedroom while she was recuperating, and since Ziva hadn't been cleared for any nude activities, they watched an old movie wrapped in each other's arms.<p>

"How's the pain?" he mumbled into her neck.

She nuzzled closer into him and breathed in his scent, ready to let exhaustion overcome her.

"Not too bad," she answered.

Tony ran his fingertips along her hairline and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

"Move in with me."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"Move in with me," he smiled.

"Tony," she blanched. "We have not been together for very long…"

"So?" he laughed. "We love each other. We've waited long enough. Let's do something for us, screw what everyone else thinks. Move in with me, Ziva."

She examined his pleading face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, and the way his mouth quivered in anticipation. Moving in with Tony was a big step. Her lease wasn't up for another seven months or so. It seemed too much, too soon, but she couldn't break his heart.

"Tony," she began hesitantly.

She felt sick when his face dropped and she knew that she was the cause of his hurt.

"It is a little fast for me. Moving in together is big step. My lease is not up yet. I…I love you, but I just don't think I am ready."

Tony nodded, crestfallen.

"Okay, I won't push you."

She kissed him gratefully.

"Thank you. I am sorry that it is not what you wanted to hear."

Tony shrugged.

"Me too, but don't think I won't bring it up in the future."

She smiled.

"I know you will."

"I'm nothing if not persistent."

"I know."

They turned off the lights and went to bed. Ziva spent the whole night wondering if she'd made the wrong decision. Why was this something she was so afraid of? Sure it was hasty, but they loved each other, and were fully committed to a life together. She wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon. Why was it so hard for her to completely relinquish her boundaries and share her space with someone she loved? They spent every night in the same bed. Would it really be that big of a stretch?

"Tony."

She reached over and shook him till he mumbled something incoherent.

"Tony, wake up."

"What is it? Are you okay?" he asked groggily.

"I will move in with you."

Tony sat up in bed, searching for her face in the darkness.

"Really?"

"On one condition. We wait until my lease is up. I signed an ironclad contract with my landlord and I do not want to put myself in debt trying to pay for loopholes."

She couldn't see him, but he smiled from ear to ear.

"I know this is not what you wanted, but I think it is best that we wait for a while before we rush into such a big decision, and I just…"

"Okay."

"Think that we should try to be a little reasonable here. I mean, we have not been together for very long and I know that we love each other but it is just very fast and I do not…"

"Okay."

"Want us to spoil what we have if we are not fully ready to make that step and I—"

His hand clamped down on her mouth.

"Ziva," he added loudly. "I said okay. I agree. I think you're right, as much as I hate to admit it."

He felt her shoulders sag with relief.

"Really?"

"Yes," he laughed. "I would move in with you tomorrow if you asked me to, but I think you're right. About everything."

"I usually am," she added softly.

"I love you, you know."

"I know."

He laughed.

"How did I get someone so modest?"

"Luck of the draw, I guess."

Tony found her lips and kissed her softly.

"I think the left side of my closet will be perfect for your stuff."

She hummed against his cheek.

"So do I."

With everything settled for the night, they went back to bed. This time, they both fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Told you it was some filler! Sorry. I have my GRE on Monday so I can't really focus on a meaty chapter till after it's over. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back! Thanks for all the reviews and the words of encouragement! You're all such gems. Sorry about last chapter—it was really just a filler because I couldn't get myself focused enough to write. I hope this one will repay you all for reading it anyway. And just something to keep in mind: I'm jumping forward here, about eight or nine weeks. I don't want the story to be too stagnant so I have to move it along.**

* * *

><p>McGee searched his workspace frantically. He shifted all the files around his desk and combed through each and every drawer looking for his missing present. His panic heightened the longer he searched, thinking only of the worst-case scenarios. All he'd need is for Tony to find it. Or Gibbs. Dear God, <em>please<em> don't let Tony or Gibbs find it.

He heard the elevator doors open and the loud tune Tony hummed as he entered the bullpen. The senior field agent had been in an unbelievably good mood all day, ever since he'd gotten back from a coffee run and found a twenty-dollar bill on the sidewalk. He claimed it was good karma, and he made sure to let everyone know that he'd done something good at some point in time that he couldn't quite remember.

"What is it that you seek, Probie Wan?"

Tim looked over his shoulder to find Tony peering at his mess with a curious expression.

"If it is the path to dorkdom, you have already found it, my friend."

McGee rolled his eyes and resumed his search.

"Chloe got me something for my birthday and I seem to have misplaced it."

Tony strolled back to his desk and leaned casually in his chair, tipping it as far as it would go.

"Oh reeeeally?" he asked with intrigue. "What did Chloe-kins get our very own Timothy McGee for being another year older?"

Tim blushed before he could stop himself. He knew, _he just knew_, that Tony had snuck a peek and knew what had gone missing.

"A book," he answered slowly.

He gauged Tony's reaction and felt relief when he couldn't see anything suspicious.

"What kind of book?" Tony asked with a nagging curiosity.

He turned his back to him and shrugged. He remained as nonchalant as possible and began to clean up his desk.

"Just a book."

Tony didn't answer, seemingly uninterested. Tim couldn't help but release the breath he'd been holding. He finished tidying up his mess and felt confident that Chloe's gift was safe between the two of them.

He felt a whoosh of air as something flew past his left ear and hit his desk with a loud bang. Its landing slid files and folders onto the floor, creating an even bigger mess. Before he could yell at Tony for destroying days' worth of paperwork and nearly hitting him in the head, he discovered what had been flung at him with a painful awareness. The purple cover mocked him, its gold, exotic print a taunt from one author to another. He cringed in preparation for Tony's comments.

"I really like page forty-three," he said matter-of-factly. "It's surprisingly simple but packs big results."

McGee's throat felt dry and he could no longer speak. He thought it would be better to shrivel up and hide under his desk until the end of time. Anything would be better than having this conversation, really.

"Tony—," he choked out, "I…I…this is not what it looks like."

Tony wouldn't have hid his Cheshire grin even if he'd had the choice. But really, could McGee blame him? He was knocking them right out of the park because his loveably naïve friend kept grooving them straight to his wheelhouse. He got out of his chair once more and stalked leisurely towards the younger agent.

"I think it's perfectly clear what it looks like, McKamaSutra. Chloe's getting bored of the old moves and wants to learn some new ones."

McGee shot him an irritated look, but secretly wondered the same thing. He knew it was meant as a joke, but the insecure, chubby guy still inside him would always wonder if he was ever enough for a girl like her.

"No," he snapped. "It was a joke. We were talking about the most inappropriate gifts we'd ever gotten and she happened to mention that her grandmother gave her a book similar to this one when she turned twenty-one." He shook his head in frustration when he realized he hadn't explained himself properly. "You had to be there, really."

"I doubt I'd like to see that go down. I imagine it'd be pretty awkward," Tony shuddered. "Actually, scratch that. I never want to imagine you in your McBirthdaySuit again."

"No, I meant…"

"What did you mean?" Tony asked, enjoying him squirm.

"Forget it," Tim dismissed. "It was an inside joke, of which you are _not_ a part."

Tony snorted.

"You totally sounded like Ziva just now. She couldn't get an idiom to save her life, but she gets mad when I use a preposition at the end of a sentence," he rolled his eyes. "She actually said '_proposition'_, so that turned into a discussion of an entirely different nature."

Tim gagged, but took advantage of the diversion. He left the topic of his birthday present happily in the past where he hoped it would forever remain.

"Speaking of, where is she?"

"Still downstairs with Abby. They're rehashing last night with a more sober mindset."

"Why, what happened last night?"

Tony snorted as he remembered Abby's drunk call from the bar. He fished for his phone buried deep in his suit pocket and checked his voicemail. He smiled when he realized he'd saved the message, and eagerly handed the phone to Tim.

"Why don't you see for yourself? Or hear for yourself, I guess."

McGee laughed. The message, five minutes long and barely cohesive, was an accidental pocket-dial. He could hear Abby's loud voice slurring her words as she hit on the bartender, Ziva's accent thick as ever while she egged on her friend.

He ignored the tiny pang of jealousy that always resurfaced whenever Abby showed affection for another man—after all, he and Chloe were perfectly happy. Carefree in fact, and it felt so easy, _so right_, that he wondered why people ever entered arduous relationships in the first place. Couldn't they be happy _without_ all the gray hairs?

He thought about Abby. Raunchy nights in her coffin seemed nothing more than a fleeting memory now replaced with new ones he and Chloe made on a regular basis. That idea scared him—what did that mean for he and his one-time love? He'd never ruled it out completely, always in the back of his mind collecting dust on his mental shelf of "what-ifs." But now it seemed even more distant as his thoughts of a tomorrow with Chloe stood at the forefront, all shiny with promise and untainted with the fears of dating a friend _and_ an ex.

It took him a few minutes of introspection before he noticed that Tony had been calling his name.

"Oh, sorry," he shook his head. "Sounds like they had a fun night."

"We most certainly did."

Ziva entered the bullpen and tossed a stack of folders on her desk. She nudged Tony's elbow as she saddled up to his side; he nudged her back twice as hard and she lost her footing. Tony's arm went out to steady her and she hadn't failed to notice that his hand lingered on her lower back longer than normal—Tony couldn't help it, not with the luck he'd been having today. It pushed him to take a walk on the wild side and dance with danger.

"If you want that arm, I suggest you drop it, _now,_" Gibbs barked as he swooped passed McGee's desk.

He grabbed his pack and commanded the others to follow suit. Tony was the first on his heels, desperate to do damage control before he did something rash and allowed Ziva to drive.

"You know, Boss, my arm wasn't in a red light zone," he laughed awkwardly, "she tripped, and I was just helping her gain her balance. If you think about it, I had her back just like you tell me to…"

He trailed off mid-excuse. Ziva and McGee heard the distinct sound of hand hitting scalp from their spots in the bullpen. They could also hear Tony's "oof" that followed.

Ziva waited patiently as McGee tossed his stuff into his backpack. Her eagle eyes spotted the book on his desk and he groaned when he realized he'd be having this conversation all over again. Maybe she'd be more understanding?

"That is a good edition," she remarked as they followed their teammates to the elevator. "Page forty-three is my personal favorite."

* * *

><p>That Saturday, the team and a few of Tim's other friends gathered at Chloe's apartment for what was supposed to be a surprise party; Palmer unknowingly ruined the surprise when he asked what he should bring for refreshments. The Autopsy Gremlin apologized profusely for his flub, but Chloe assured him with her sweet, southern charm that no harm had been done, and she was sure it would be just as fun now that Tim knew.<p>

In fact, the party had been going on for a little over two hours with no end in sight. Chloe's open and airy apartment was the perfect venue for an intimate party with friends, but still had plenty of room to spread out; she had even borrowed Abby's karaoke machine for the occasion. Ziva privately wondered how a bartender could afford such a nice apartment, but she remembered Chloe mentioning that she'd moved to D.C. a few months after her grandmother died. She must have left her some sort of inheritance.

Breena, visibly pregnant, enjoyed a quiet chat with Ducky in the corner. Every now and then she'd pause and smile a brilliant, excited smile at her companion; it had been just yesterday that the team found out she'd started to feel the baby move. The movements weren't strong enough yet to be felt by strangers, but it was very obvious when she could by her excitement. Tony noticed that she really did light up a room when she entered, and he couldn't ignore the ache inside him. He wanted what Breena and Jimmy had with Ziva, right now, and it physically hurt him to know that they were nowhere near that stage in their life together. They had talked about it, sure, but the assurance of its inevitability was one thing; it still made him jealous that Jimmy and his wife were already there.

Ziva squeezed his shoulder from behind and moved her mouth close to his neck. Her breath tickled as she whispered into his ear.

"Should I be worried?"

"Hm?"

He turned his head so they were face-to-face. She was so close he could reach out, grab hold of her, and whisk her away to the nearest closet for a quickie.

"Sorry," he replied half-dazed. "What did you say?"

She smiled so he knew not to take her seriously.

"Well, you have not been able to tear your eyes away from Breena." She crinkled her nose in that adorable way that always made him smile despite himself. "Should I be worried?"

His face crossed the short distance between them and he kissed her tenderly. He turned his head back towards Breena while Ziva rested her chin on his shoulder. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck from behind and clasped his hand over hers.

"She looks so happy."

She faltered at the tone of his voice and leaned forward to examine his features. It was hard to miss the way his eyes shone with longing. She knew what he had cooking in that brain of his, and it definitely involved her barefoot and pregnant within two months.

"Tony," she began slowly.

He recognized almost instantly the regret in her voice—regret that she had to disappoint him again, regret that she had to burst his bubble. He braced himself for the speech that would begin any minute now, explaining how much she loved him and wanted a life with him but he was pushing her too much, too soon. He squeezed her hand and and nodded.

"I know," he sighed.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to interpret his mood.

"What do you know?"

"What do _you_ know?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled away from him.

"Never mind," she clipped, "you are clearly not willing to listen to me."

He pulled her towards him before she could shut down in an effort to remain emotionless.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, "you were saying?"

She made sure he was being serious before she inhaled deeply and tried again. It made her all sorts of nervous to broach this topic because it was really the gateway to everything else—the first road on the highway of the rest of their lives.

"I wanted to know how you felt about looking for apartments sooner than we agreed," she spoke carefully. "I know I still have two months left and I insisted we wait, but there is no harm in looking, right?"

Tony smiled.

"Sure, and if we happen to see one we like, there's no harm in putting down an offer."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Do _not _push it."

"I'll take what I can get," he smiled happily. "But can I ask what changed your mind?"

She stared at Ducky and Breena, now joined by Jimmy. He lovingly guided his wife to a seat while they resumed conversation with the medical examiner, but it didn't stop him from glancing at her with a lovesick expression on his face, almost as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world and if he blinked, she'd be gone.

"I love you," she shrugged. "That's about it."

It still made him dizzy to hear her say it so nonchalantly. He wondered if it would ever lose its novelty, but he highly doubted it. He gave her the biggest smile he could and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Fine by me."

They stared at each other with an intensity that lit them both on fire. Usually, a look like that would ignite a romp between the sheets. They both knew they'd have to rein it in before they made people uncomfortable. It was even harder on Tony—his vantage point allowed him to see all the way down her shirt.

"Tony!"

He and Ziva jumped apart at the sound of Abby's excited voice nearby. She grabbed him by the arm and tried to hoist him off his chair. He tried not to be bothered that she could barely move him more than a few inches.

"I need a partner. I can't sing Human League alone!"

He groaned.

"Again?"

She huffed and crossed her arms with the perfect amount of petulance and guilt. It would only be a matter of seconds.

"Fine," he conceded, "but just this once."

Ziva winked at Abby. She knew that the opposite would be true—she'd have to drag him away from the microphone by the end of the party. When the music started, Tony forgot any previous hesitation and sung his heart out, relishing in the spotlight.

"You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar…"

Abby danced on the stage while she waited for her turn to sing. Her pigtails swung freely as she bounced up and down, swishing her miniskirt with her free hand.

"I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, that much is true…"

Chloe and Breena sang every word; even McGee belted the chorus to the best of his knowledge. Gibbs and Ducky retreated to the kitchen for a quieter atmosphere. Apparently they weren't enjoying Tony and Abby's show as much as everyone else.

Ziva, however, enjoyed them immensely. She allowed them a full-blown smile as they perfected their routine song after song. They loved every minute of the attention—Tony couldn't have made it any more obvious.

"They should take their act on the road."

She smiled as Palmer joined her on the couch. He offered her a fresh glass of wine and she thanked him for the gesture.

"Do not give them any ideas. They do not need the encouragement."

They laughed and watched the duo start another song. They enjoyed each other's company in silence until Jimmy cleared his throat.

"Uh, Ziva?"

She cocked her head to the side and took another sip of her wine.

"Yes?"

"So I, uh, well, we, I mean Breena and myself, want to, uh…"

"What is it that you are trying to say, Jimmy?"

He wiped his brow and blinked rapidly, very hesitant to speak with Ziva.

"Well…Breena and I were talking, and we'd like to ask Tony to be our child's godfather."

Ziva couldn't mask her genuine surprise. It made sense, though—Jimmy didn't have any family around his age and Tony was the closest thing he had to a best friend.

"Wow," she gasped. "That is a very nice gesture."

Jimmy seemed relieved.

"You think? Breena's asking Emily to be godmother and I thought it'd be nice to ask Tony, you know? I just don't know if he'd want to or not. I don't want him to feel obligated or anything."

Ziva placed a hand on his arm and smiled. She knew he'd be completely touched by the offer. She couldn't help but think that it would also distract him from pestering her about babies for a while.

"Jimmy, I think he will love it. I am positive."

He nodded to himself and looked over in Tony's direction.

"He was so good when I found out, you know?" He faced Ziva and she nodded in understanding. "I just want to show him how much we appreciate it. He's always been there for me and I just…" he laughed awkwardly. "I don't know. I think it'd be a nice way to thank him."

Ziva swallowed the lump in her throat. She had no doubt that Tony would be absolutely honored.

"I truly think he will be flattered. When are you going to ask him?"

Jimmy beamed.

"Probably next week. Breena already had her appointment, but we decided that we want to find out the sex so we're going to go back for another sonogram."

"That is very exciting."

Jimmy fumbled for his wallet and pulled out a crumpled sonogram.

"That's my kid, Ziva," he whispered in awe. "I just can't believe it sometimes."

Ziva ignored the longing that seized her chest. She had made it very clear to Tony that she wasn't ready. She _knew_ she wasn't. And she knew he wasn't, either. But it didn't change the fact that she still wanted to be a mother, and watching Breena had her pining for it much sooner than she thought. She made sure to push the fears that her past history would hinder her chances for conceiving to the back of her mind because it was all too scary to think about. She didn't like to give it much thought. It made her past too real.

"It must be amazing," she sighed. "I am sure you two will make terrific parents."

Jimmy blushed.

"I hope so. Breena's taken to pregnancy like a duck to water, but me," he laughed, "Well you know I've had my doubts. I still worry that I won't be a good dad, but I know that Breena is so terrific she'll whip me into shape."

Ziva laughed.

"I agree."

"Do me a favor, Ziva. Don't tell Tony? I want to find the right time to ask him."

"I won't say anything," she promised.

They nodded at each other and resumed watching Abby and Tony singing Elton John. Ziva stifled a laugh as she thought of something.

"What?"

"You are making Tony a godfather," she stated. "Do you know how many Marlon Brando references will be made?"

Jimmy palmed his face and groaned, but Ziva had no pity.

"You are setting yourself up for this, you know. You're making him an offer he cannot refuse."

* * *

><p>The next few days blurred into each other as a brutal murder of a Lance Corporal led the team through a series of ambiguous turns and duplicitous suspects. Nothing was what it seemed and no one could be trusted, which meant that Gibbs reached an almost unbearable level of grumpiness and Tony resorted to mini-campfires. Ziva and McGee felt caught in between two struggles for power and they weren't sure what to do. It was almost instinctual for her to side with Tony at this point; she knew that his methods worked, however unorthodox, and he had time and time again proved his worth as a brilliant investigator. But a part of her felt that she was turning her back on someone she considered a father. McGee, too, felt conflicted, and in the end he tried to do his best not to side with either agent. He often retreated to Abby's lab in the few minutes of downtime they had during the day and late hours of the night.<p>

It took a week to solve the case, only to discover that the Lance Corporal's death set in a motion a chain of events with catastrophic consequences. Vance had stepped in to inform the team that the case was no longer theirs—Gibbs hit the roof, as expected, and the two spent the better part of an hour arguing upstairs.

McGee, Ziva, and Tony winced every time they heard shouting from their places in the bullpen. Minutes later, Gibbs emerged and stormed down the stairs, not once looking back to acknowledge Vance calling his name. He charged past the bullpen and slammed the elevator buttons. When the doors opened and he stepped inside, Vance spoke again.

"Agent David," he called from the balcony. "I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

Her eyes instantly met Tony's and he shrugged. She nodded at Vance and left her desk, glancing at Tony once more as she passed him. He watched her ascend the stairs and disappear into Vance's office.

Vance waited until she sat down at his conference table and shut the door. He took the seat opposite her and handed her a folder. He gave her the okay to open it, and she sifted through the photographs. Mostly all of them contained a man in his early fifties with gray-peppered temples and a very chiseled jaw. He had a jagged scar on his left ear, and his gray eyes contained a certain hardness that couldn't be disguised. His dark hair was still thick despite some loss of color, and Ziva would not hesitate to describe the man as handsome.

"You recognize him, don't you?"

Ziva nodded.

"I am not sure from where."

Vance slid the folder back towards him and stuffed the photos back inside.

"Don't worry. You'll be getting to know him soon enough."

"I am sorry, Director Vance, but I do know know what you are talking about."

"Agent David," he cleared his throat and addressed her in his obnoxiously authoritative tone. "I need you to go undercover."

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><p><strong>Thoughts? I hope it was worth the wait!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**I am terribly sorry for the delay. I do hope you're not angry with me.**

* * *

><p>Ziva blinked in shock. There had to be some sort of mistake here.<p>

"Undercover?" she choked out.

Vance nodded.

"Surely there must be someone else," she scrambled, but he ignored her weak protests and continued to speak.

"His name's Sebastian Wolff. Born in Austria, raised in Zurich, studied in Germany."

Ziva couldn't help it; her ears perked and her eyes widened involuntarily.

"Germany?"

Vance nodded. He knew he'd piqued her interest.

"Berlin."

He continued speaking as she processed the information.

"His college roommate was Rolf Amsel."

Ziva's face paled.

"Rolf…" she whispered.

"Agent David," he interrupted, "intelligence has revealed that he and Amsel are still in contact with one another. We believe he's the billionaire that helped fund the bombing on the _Montecito_."

Everyone had heard about the tragic bombing of a US Navy ship stationed overseas. Rolf Amsel was rumored to be responsible, but he had to have received monetary help from someone with a far bigger bank account; while he certainly had a strong fan base behind him, he never had money of his own. He relied on anonymous backers to fund his destruction.

Ziva's throat felt dry and her head started to spin. Devastation like that, a deliberate act of terrorism, was not taken lightly, not by the U.S and certainly not by her. She'd seen way too much of it in her lifetime.

"But it did not happen here," she questioned, grasping for straws. "Would the Turkish office not handle the situation?"

Director Vance sighed. He unwrapped a toothpick and twirled it in his fingers. This wasn't something he wanted on his hands, either, but it came with the job. If it were up to him, he'd shoot anyone responsible for taking the lives of US citizens—or any people, for that matter.

"Wolff boarded a flight from Zurich to Dulles yesterday, which makes him our responsibility. We don't really have a choice here—the bastard's come to us, and we need to gather as much intel as possible while he's on our soil. We need someone to get close to him, seduce him, _hell_, do whatever you want short of killing him to get him singing like a canary. And if we get Wolff to give up Amsel while we're at it, then I'd consider it a pretty damn successful mission."

Ziva nodded gravely.

"One of Wolff's close associates has a mansion in Maryland. His name is Frederic Montagne, and apparently, he's hosting a party in Wolff's honor tomorrow night. Kind of like a, 'Welcome to the United States' thing." Vance looked Ziva right in the eye to convey that there was little room for argument. "And you're going."

ZIva gathered the last remainder of her defiance and gave a final attempt to sway his decision.

"Are you sure I am best suited for this?"

"Agent David, Sebastian Wolff is a cosmopolitan billionaire. We need a female agent who not only has savvy to keep up with him in society, but also the intelligence; not to mention we certainly need her to catch his attention. Your extensive linguistic background will serve as an invaluable asset to our investigation." He sighed. "There's no one else who can do this."

Ziva ignored the lead feeling in her stomach. This was the last thing she'd expected to deal with when she woke up this morning; her biggest problem was Tony's dirty dishes in her sink. Nonetheless, she accepted her fate with an ugly resignation. The fact that she wasn't really given a choice left a bad taste in her mouth.

"How would I get into the event? Is there a cover story?"

He made an indecisive face and swayed his head back and forth.

"We have the backbone. Anything else you want to flesh out is okay, but you have to clear it with us first." He got up and retrieved a file marked classified. He handed it to her and she scanned the pages.

"Valentina Herrera," she read, "a worldly Spanish aristocrat who studied in the finest boarding schools across Europe. Double majored in Art History and History from Cambridge University. Recently moved to Georgetown and currently looking to open a gallery in the area."

"A ritzy party would be the perfect opportunity to meet potential clients and investors."

"How did I get invited to this party?"

Vance smiled.

"You're going to bump into Montagne tonight at the Blue Door Lounge," he explained. "He ends his night there every Wednesday. He's got a private booth with a perfect view of the bar."

"So I need to make his acquaintance and get an invite," she guessed.

"Exactly."

They went over some more details before he finally dismissed Ziva. She turned on her heels when she was almost at the door.

"So this has nothing to do with the Lance Corporal's death?"

Vance furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why would you think that?"

"We could hear Gibbs shouting from the bull pen," she explained.

"There are other reasons why he'd shout at me," Vance smirked. "And one of them would be taking you from his team."

* * *

><p>"You don't have a choice?"<p>

The forlorn expression on his face broke Ziva's heart. She pushed herself off the bathroom counter and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I do not think it will be that dangerous," she mumbled into his shirt. "And besides," she added playfully, "I will not kiss Wolff if I don't have to."

He ran his hand through her hair and gently grabbed her chin. His eyes bore into hers, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"It's not about that and you know it. You're going in blind."

"Tony," she sighed, "you will all be watching. I will not be blind."

"I won't have your six, Zi. That's the problem. That's what I'm afraid of."

They heard the doorknob jiggle from the outside and jumped away.

"I will be fine," she offered quietly. "Trust me."

He smiled at her adoringly.

"Always."

The door flew open and McGee smiled awkwardly. He cleared his throat and Ziva could see a slight reddening of his cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "Gibbs is looking for you both."

"Thank you for getting us, Tim," Ziva smiled as she left the bathroom.

Tony clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thanks for the privacy," he said gratefully.

"I just got here," he lied.

Tony smiled.

"Nice try, but I heard your shoes creak about two minutes before you opened the door. I appreciate it."

Tim nodded; he knew the two needed a moment alone to discuss things. He had no idea what he'd do in the situation, and he didn't envy them in the slightest.

Gibbs watched as his team entered the bull pen. He wasn't sure he had to guess where they were, but he decided to pick his battles. And he definitely had a more important battle to pick.

"Ziva," he barked.

Tony nudged her forward in fear, and she tripped as she came towards him. Gibbs stuck out his arms and steadied her shoulders.

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked in a low voice.

Tony and Tim scampered to their desks and carried on with their business while the two talked in the middle of the bull pen.

"I am positive," she assured him. "But Vance made it seem like I do not have a choice even if I didn't."

"Like hell you don't," he growled. "Ziver, you always have a choice. I'm sure we can get someone else to do it."

She smiled; if they were in private, she'd probably kiss his cheek, but she didn't want to openly reveal either of their tender sides.

"Be honest, Gibbs. Do you really think it will be that dangerous?"

He opened his mouth and she narrowed her eyes. It shocked him sometimes that she could read him so well.

"No," he sighed. "I don't. But-"

She raised her finger and smiled.

"You just said you did not think it was dangerous. Your point is moo."

"Moot!" Tony shouted from his seat.

Ziva turned towards him and her face twisted in confusion.

"What?"

"It's not moo, it's _moot_," he explained.

"That makes no sense."

He snorted.

"And moo does?"

"According to Friends it does," Abby chimed in.

Three heads snapped towards the tall goth leaning against Ziva's desk.

"When did you get here?" Ziva asked exasperatedly.

"Just now!"

"And technically Abby," McGee interjected, "Joey says it wrong. He thinks it's moo, but they correct him. So it makes no sense on Friends, either."

Gibbs rubbed his face with his hands. His agents were giving him a giant headache.

"Please tell me you have something, Abs."

Abby waved the thick envelope in her hands.

"Ziva's cover, Bossman."

Ziva eagerly took the envelope and sorted through its contents: driver license, birth certificate, diplomas, articles in her honor, the deed to her temporary apartment, and other assorted documents she could possibly need.

"Wow," Tim gushed over her shoulder, "Valentina seems pretty accomplished."

Ziva glared at him.

"And I am not accomplished, McGee?"

Tony coughed "shut up" and Abby giggled.

He blushed.

"No, Ziva. I mean...what I'm trying to say is that you're...well you're accomplished and stuff but...I just didn't realize that you knew that much about art," he finished weakly.

She huffed but backed down.

"I spent three months in Florence. I used my free time wisely."

Tim wisely ended the conversation.

"Oh, I almost forgot!"

Abby pulled a velvet pouch from her lab coat and handed it to Ziva. Ziva let a topaz necklace fall into her palm.

"It's your camera! Wear it at all times. There are two mini ones in there which connect to different videos so we can all watch you even if we're not together."

Ziva twirled the dainty gold chain in her fingers and admired the stone.

"Well done," she praised, "I cannot see the cameras through the topaz. Which is my birthstone, by the way."

"Exactly!" Abby chirped. "I was going to give you another birthday, but you suit topaz so well. I thought it'd be okay if I kept you as November 12."

"1980."

"Sorry I made you older."

Tony paled.

"Stop talking about your age, it's making me feel ancient."

When he caught Gibbs's raised eyebrow, he backpedaled.

"Well, you know, not ancient per se, more like older than Ziva, Boss. You're not ancient. Not at all."

"Good, because if Jethro's ancient I would hate to know what that made me."

"Ducky!"

Abby threw her arms around the medical examiner. He laughed and patted her back.

"Hello, my dear. I just came up to wish Ziva good luck."

"Thank you, Ducky," Ziva smiled.

Abby and Ducky buzzed around the bull pen for another few minutes before Gibbs got tired and sent them back downstairs.

"David," he barked, "get going. You've got to settle in. And you need to go shopping."

"What about my clothes?"

"A courier will come and get them later tonight. Just run home, grab your essentials and throw some stuff into piles. DiNozzo or Abby will put a few bags together."

She said her goodbyes to the team with the assurance that they'd come by tonight to bug the apartment. In the meantime, she'd heard rumors of a giant jacuzzi that she just had to test out.

* * *

><p>"I could seriously hide in here," he called from the living room. "I think the linen closet is big enough."<p>

Ziva smiled to herself as she unpacked a bag in her bedroom. She'd made piles all over her giant bed; her beloved Tali would have been pleased to know that she'd accumulated a ton of clothes in such a short amount of time. And not all of them were practical.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" she shouted back.

She heard his footsteps and sighed when she felt Tony's arms encircle her waist from behind. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent.

"I don't really think that's what you're supposed to be doing," he responded huskily.

She closed her eyes as dizziness overpowered her. How was she going to last without him?

"Is that right?"

He nodded into her neck and his five o'clock shadow scratched delightfully against her skin.

"Why don't you enlighten me then?" she purred.

Tony slowly began to suck on the sensitive spot behind her ear. He slipped a hand under her shirt and brushed his rough thumb along her hip and up her stomach. When he felt her knees wobble, he used his other hand to hold her waist in place and took satisfaction when she shivered from his touch.

When his thumb dipped above her underwire and skimmed the bottom of her breast, she had to pull away. It physically pained her to do so, and if she thought about how amazing the sex would be she was certain tears would form in her eyes.

"I have to get ready," she protested. "As much as I want to stay here and finish this."

Tony groaned and shook his leg.

"You're killing me here, Zi. Can't you give us a half hour?"

"I have to meet Montagne tonight, Tony," she huffed. "This is important."

"I know, I know," he mumbled.

Ziva watched him walk into the bathroom and had to force herself to remain in her spot. The urge to follow him in was too tempting. She settled on putting another pile of clothes away and selecting a dress.

Tony let the water wash away any chance of action this evening, though it did nothing to quell his fears. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tile. Was this really as safe as everyone thought? What if she found herself in another situation where she came far too close to death while undercover? He'd never forget the way she carried herself for days afterwards. He'd never forgive himself if she weren't so lucky this time.

He jumped when he felt slender fingers dance across his hips. There she was, looking heart-breakingly beautiful, smiling at him with nothing but love and lust in her eyes.

"I thought you had to get ready," he choked.

She winked and leaned over him to turn the hot water on. She made sure she brushed him in all the right places and smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"I decided I could be five minutes late."

* * *

><p>Ziva admired her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was straightened, a style she hadn't utilized as often since she started dating Tony. He'd always loved her hair wild and curly, and she always loved the way he ran his fingers through her ringlets. She'd smudged a tasteful amount of burgandy eyeliner into her lashes and coated them with about three layers of mascara, but she kept the rest of her eyes bare-she didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard. She wasn't used to wearing professional-looking sheath dresses, but she'd been informed that trendy working women opted towards them because they were good for day and night. She let her necklace hang down and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her high heels-sturdy and professional but with just enough sex appeal-click-clacked all the way from the bathroom to her chosen spot at the bar.<p>

"Vodka martini, please."

She was halfway through her drink when she felt a presence nearby. She had to force herself not to smile, but his predictability was laughable.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Ziva's eyes raked over his body. He wasn't quite as handsome as his friend Sebastian, but Frederic Montagne wasn't ugly, either. His blonde hair was kept cropped close to his head, and his dark brown eyes looked like they'd witnessed many a scandalous night. He smiled when she finally met his stare, and Ziva knew exactly what won the ladies over. He had a smile like Tony's, an effortlessly handsome grin that weakened women everywhere.

_Too bad he wasn't Tony._

"But I'm not finished with this one yet."

She sat down beside her, oozing an easy confidence that made her nauseous.

"Well then I guess I'd better keep you company till you do." He extended his hand. "I'm Frederic."

Two hours had gone by and Frederic had not yet invited her to his party. It was obvious he'd been completely enchanted by the Spanish beauty who had not only poise but an air of sophistication that only old money could produce-she just had to dangle the bait.

She yawned and finished the last of her drink.

"Frederic, it has been an absolute pleasure," she purred. "But I really must get going. I have a meeting with my realtor at an ungodly hour."

She kissed him on both cheeks and he caught her hand.

"Valentina, mon cherie, this can't be the last time I see you. You are postively intriguing."

She laughed and coyly pulled her hand away, but he grabbed it once more.

"I am hosting a party tomorrow night. A friend of mine has just arrived in the States and I wanted to throw him a welcome suaree. Maybe another European might make him feel less homesick?"

Bingo.

Ziva clucked her tongue.

"What kind of lady would I be if I accepted an invitation for the following evening?"

Montagne kissed her hand with the utmost genteel.

"The kind that would be doing me the highest of honors."

She pretended to mull it over and then allowed a slow smile to spread across her face.

"Oh, alright. If you insist."

He scribbled down the address on a bar napkin and kissed her cheeks once more.

"Tomorrow night at 8 o'clock. Shall I send a driver?"

She waved a hand dismissively.

"I have my own."

He threw his head back and laughed.

"Magnifique. Until then, Ms. Herrera. Let's hope I can make it that long."

She smiled and strutted the whole way out of the bar.

_Like taking candy from an infant_, she thought to herself.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope it was worth the wait! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**A big merci beaucoups to Mathilde for correcting the nuances of the French language.**

* * *

><p>Ziva had just tied her sneakers when she heard him knock. She smiled to herself; it was only a matter of time before Tony made an appearance, and she wondered how long it would take him before he mentioned Frederic.<p>

"Couldn't miss a day of training," he shrugged when she opened the door.

"And what exactly are you training for?"

He gave her a quick kiss good morning and headed towards the elevator.

"I don't know, but I've got to be prepared. James Bond is a pretty tough guy to compete with," he winked.

She smiled inwardly; it hadn't taken long at all. She pretended not to understand as she shut her door and followed him.

"James Bond?"

He rolled his eyes and heaved dramatically.

"Don't play that game for one second, Missy. I see right through that. You know very well that I'm talking about your date with Daniel Craig last night."

Ziva pondered the thought, warring with her instinct to boast a triumph.

"Daniel Craig is interesting," she mused, "but I was thinking more Ralph Fiennes, with an air of Matt Damon's boyish intrigue."

A laugh bubbled from her lips at the sight of Tony's jaw drop. She reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. He huffed and pressed the elevator button, milking his hurt for a few minutes longer.

"I did not find Montagne attractive, Tony."

"I know that," he scoffed.

"But Sebastian on the other hand..."

Her laugh echoed as he lunged towards her in playful retaliation.

* * *

><p>They came back from their run sweaty yet energized, and Tony's vast improvement since their earlier mornings truly astounded Ziva.<p>

"I'd shower now if I were you. We don't have much time before McGadget storms the beach of Normandy."

Ziva kicked off her shoes as she walked into her apartment. At the sound of his words, he turned to face him with a confused expression on her face. Her arms were high in the air, and she seemed to be entangled by her tight shirt she couldn't peel off.

"What—"

He shook his head.

"Too hard to explain."

She answered him when she had finally freed herself from her textile prison.

"I _have_ heard of Normandy, Tony."

He clanked around in the kitchen and attempted to turn on the fancy coffee machine; what was wrong with a basic one, with a few simple controls?

"I know, Ziva," he sighed distractedly. "Go shower. Hopefully I'll have turned it on at least by the time you get out."

She watched him struggle for a few more minutes before she shouted from bedroom.

"It is not plugged in!"

"Of course it's plugged in!" he shouted back. It took him only a few seconds to realize that she was right. "Oops."

Tony greeted McGee at the door and waved him inside with a dramatic gesture.

"You're just in time. I made breakfast."

Tim viewed the kitchen in shock: bacon and sausage sizzled on the pan, pancakes were stacked high, and the smell of a pretentious coffee from his favorite shop in Georgetown filled the room.

"_You_ did?"

Tony nodded proudly and removed the bacon from the pan.

"All by myself. No adult supervision."

"Where's Ziva?"

"Getting ready in her giant bathroom. You're early."

McGee gaped for another few minutes before pouring himself a cup. He savored the taste as the liquid warmed his throat.

"I didn't realize you were this domestic."

Tony's eyes flashed with hurt before he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not that hard to make breakfast, McGriddle. I think I can handle that."

McGee sensed that he'd hit a nerve; he winced at his friend's tone. What had gotten him so frustrated? It was only a joke.

Tony instantly regretted his temper. He wasn't really sure why he'd snapped. A part of him resented that McGee wouldn't think he could handle making breakfast. He was in his forties—did Tim really think he was that incompetent?

"Sorry, Tony, I didn't mean to imply—"

"No, it's okay," he shook his head. "I know what you meant. I haven't exactly given you any reason to believe I was Martha Stewart," he smiled.

Tim could still hear the bitterness in her voice.

"Tony, I—"

"But when I've got someone to be domestic for…" he trailed off, praying that his cheeks wouldn't flush. "I don't mind so much."

Tim was speechless for the second time this morning. It wasn't often that he got such unguarded tenderness from the older agent. He decided to push his luck.

"How do you feel about Ziva's mission?"

Tony stalled in his tracks. He hand hovered over the bottle of syrup as he thought of the best lie he could think of. He heaved a sigh and turned to face his friend.

"To be honest, Tim, I'm nervous as hell," he laughed. "I barely slept last night."

Tony leaned over the breakfast counter so he was eye-to-eye with McGee. Somehow, he just felt the conversation needed to be had that way.

"I'm sorry," Tim answered quietly. "I don't know what I'd do in your situation."

"It's not that I don't think Ziva can handle it. She can handle anything."

Tim hid a smile behind his coffee cup; hearing the adoration in Tony's voice made him genuinely happy.

"I'm just…worried, you know? I can't explain it. My gut's doing all sorts of back-flips and somersaults."

"I think they're the same thing," McGee pointed out.

"Whatever, McGymnast. That's not the point. The point is that something doesn't feel right. Something could go wrong."

"Not tonight. It's just a party."

"I'm not just talking about tonight, Tim," he forced through gritted teeth. "I'm talking about down the line. Weeks, months…however long it takes to get as much from him as they need. I just don't want to see her get hurt."

"Or attached," McGee ventured.

He closed his eyes in fear; this type of hubris would most certainly earn him fifty head slaps. Tony merely stared in total awe; when had his Probie turned into a fine investigator? Tim had always been good—maybe the better question was when the younger agent started reading _him_ so well?

"Maybe," Tony whispered. "I trust her, I really do. But I know what it's like to lose control of your emotions. It takes you by surprise."

"She cares a lot about you, Tony," McGee reassured him. "I wouldn't worry."

Tony nodded distractedly. Thoughts of he and Jeanne, thoughts he'd hidden for a long time, crept into his brain and clouded his memory. He really did love Jeanne, and he felt terrible that she'd gotten hurt in the process. There was also a piece of him who _liked _the life Tony DiNardo led. It was simple, and in it, he got to be a better man. Though he knew Ziva loved him and her life at NCIS, he still didn't want any part of her to feel that sense of conflict.

"Plus, Wolff's a bad guy," Tim added.

Tony smiled and threw some pancakes on his plate.

"You always see the bright side of things." He added two to Tim's plate and passed the syrup. "You're like a thirty-something Annie, but with a federal agent flare."

Tim grinned widely.

"I think that may have been the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Glad I could help. But now you've got to sing for your supper," he quipped. "Or should I say breakfast?"

Tim sighed dramatically as he munched on a slice of bacon.

"It's a hard knock life."

"Just call me Miss Hannigan."

Tony couldn't fight the laugh even if he'd tried, and soon the sound of two grown men howling with laughter filled the entire apartment.

* * *

><p>Gibbs and Abby—she refused to be left behind—came to check out Ziva's new place a few hours later. Abby had nothing but positive things to say about it; she loved the living room, the spacious feel, the light it offered, and the size of the bedrooms. Gibbs gave one or two approving grunts and left it at that.<p>

They ate lunch and talked about key people Ziva would see tonight. She took mental notes and hoped she'd get the opportunity to meet them all. When they'd finished for the day, Gibbs all but dragged Abby out the door.

"Have so much fun tonight, Ziva!" she chattered. "I can't wait to hear all about it! Literally!"

Ziva allowed a small—by Abby's standards—hug and smiled.

"Thank you, Abby."

McGee hugged her tightly.

"Be careful, Ziva. If you need us, we're just a shout away."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"You are very sweet, Tim. Give Chloe my best, yes?"

He grinned.

"Will do."

It was Gibbs's turn to say his goodbyes. He stepped forward, pleased when his agents scattered every which way. Sometimes he truly enjoyed intimidation; it got him privacy when he wanted it.

"Stay safe, you hear me?" he instructed. "No funny business tonight. It's purely to meet the meet Wolff. I don't want you pulling anything but your best charming socialite."

Ziva smirked.

"I cannot promise anything."

"Ziver," he whispered. "Please."

Her throat constricted when he kissed her forehead and walked away. She bit her bottom lip to control the trembling. She wasn't nervous, but the finality that her team addressed her with was certainly putting her on edge.

"DiNozzo, you've got another two hours. Cinderella's got a ball to go to."

Ziva scoffed at the command; Tony saluted.

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

Tony pulled his head out of his magazine and turned himself around on the couch. If it were possible, his jaw would have absolutely hit the floor.

"Wow," he whispered.

She raised an eyebrow.

"That is all you have to say?"

"I…" he swallowed. "That's all I _can_ say."

Ziva smirked; she was pleased by his reaction. She sashayed towards him with a predatory look in her eyes.

"It's Oscar de la Renta," she purred, letting the words roll off her tongue. "I needed something extravagant."

At last she stood in front of him. He ran his hands down her sides; he had to feel the fabric for himself. He desperately wanted to touch her hair, but it looked so lovely up. She was a knockout.

"Zi, you look incredible."

His eyes scanned over her, from her gracefully knotted hair to her expertly applied makeup, but he couldn't stop staring at her dress. The show-stopping gown was subtle but would still grab the attention of every man in the room. The one-shouldered work of art clung to her hips and flowed just at the bottom in a swirl of fabric he didn't know how to describe; it was frothy, with a confectionary air that made him salivate.

This wasn't a dress that Ziva would choose on her own, but there were certain qualities about it that made it _feel_ like her. He wondered if it were her inner ballerina pirouetting out into the open. After all, Valentina could be who ever she wanted. And Tony remembered Ziva mentioning that she brought dance into her back story.

"It is a little much for me," she admitted, "I could have picked a simpler one. But I thought it was fun."

He lightly traced a finger on her cheek.

"It's perfect."

"I am glad you think so," she smiled. "Even if you have no idea what the color is."

He groaned frustration.

"Can you please just tell me? I'm a guy. Sue me for not knowing that shade of…what the hell is it called?"

She laughed.

"I think it is somewhere in between a nude and a light pink. It is a difficult color to define."

He nodded and sighed.

"I wish I could be there."

Thankful for her heels, she ran her fingers through his hair and allowed him to pull her closer.

"I will be fine."

"I know," he conceded.

"I love you."

"I know."

"When I finish this, we will look for apartments."

Tony smiled.

"I read some listings last night," he admitted. "I found a few nice places. We'd have to check them for mold and stuff, but you know. I'm keeping an eye out."

"The minute this is over, we will check them out."

"Well not the _minute_ it's over. We're having sex for a week straight after that. Give it a week. Or two."

Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you can wait that long?"

"I think I can wait to look for apartments if it means spending a week where I invoke Rule #5."

She gasped.

"You are using a rule from your own rule book?"

"'If the doors are locked, clothes are optional, except for cooking' will soon be in full swing," he winked. "Now hurry up and catch the bad guys. I'm not going to handle sleeping without you at night."

She fought back the sudden tears in her eyes. She would really, really miss him. After tonight, he couldn't just stop by whenever he wanted; she now had a cover to maintain.

"I will do my best," she whispered.

He poured every ounce of his heart into a kiss and squeezed her hand.

"I love you, Ziva."

"I love you, too."

He pulled away from her with all the restraint he could muster; it gave him a physical ache to let her go.

"Alright, Cinderella. Better get to that party. I don't think pumpkin will go with that dress. And it's probably dry-clean only."

Ziva's eyes widened in horror.

"It is most definitely dry-clean only. I should probably scoot."

He cocked his head to the side.

"Does scoot work there? I'm not entirely sure. It sounds a bit weird."

"Shut up, Tony."

"Shutting up."

* * *

><p>"Here you are, Miss. Looks like you're a bit late," the driver smiled apologetically as he opened the car door. "I am terribly sorry; I was told to pick you up at 8pm."<p>

She climbed out of the car with grace and waved a hand in dismissal when the doorman tried to take her hand. She turned to resume her conversation with her pleasant driver.

"It is no problem at all, Thomas. I wanted to be fashionably late, yes?"

He laughed and winked.

"Trust me, Miss. That party hasn't started yet. Not with you still out here."

She narrowed her eyes playfully.

"And how do you know I am bringing the party?"

"A beautiful girl always brings the party." He tipped his hat. "I'll be back at 12:30, Miss. Enjoy yourself."

She stood at the door and watched him drive away. There was no turning back now, she mused.

"Are you ready, Miss?"

She jumped slightly but regained her composure.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Miss…"

"Herrera," she smiled.

The doorman greeted her warmly and led her into the impressive mansion. She marveled inwardly at its grandeur.

"Not bad at all," she whispered approvingly.

"I will let Master Montagne know you have arrived, Miss Herrera."

"That is alright. I will find him myself."

He bowed and directed her to the excitement just down the hall. The spacious room was full of exquisitely dressed people, all with an air of importance. They laughed with delicate glassware in their hands, enjoying what she was sure were fantastic hors d'oeuvres. The women, beautiful despite their range in age, wore gowns and glittering jewels that lit up the room whenever they caught the light. The men, in their dapper tuxes and charming smiles, hadn't a care in the world as they knocked back their drinks and talked with their companions. She'd seen so many people like this-hell, she'd pretended to _be_ people like this, but the sight never got old. It was the type of fantasy that filled the storybooks from her early childhood. Though she'd gone to a few of these gatherings in Mossad, there was something different about going as someone else entirely, someone who lived a life of privilege, unmarred by the things she'd experienced in her time. A waiter approached her with a genteel smile and offered her a tiny crab cake.

"Anything to drink for you, Miss?"

She ordered her drink and made small-talk with an older couple from Vienna. They regaled her with stories from their country, and she spoke of her favorite parts of the area. A few more women joined their conversation, and she found herself easily conversing with the guests. They were enchanted by the newcomer, and Ziva graciously answered every question they asked. To her dismay, however, she had yet to see Montagne and Wolff. A fellow guest mentioned in passing that Wolff took a business call and Montagne used the opportunity to answer work e-mails.

When she found the chance to break away, she took a spot by a painting that she recognized with great excitement as one of her favorite artists. The little ballerinas, two in this display, served as a bittersweet reminder of her days as a dancer; her toes curled automatically as she remembered the way the pointe shoes fit, the pain they held but with great reward. She fondly recalled the way her tutu rustled against her skin, and the way her leotard stretched when she did. She hadn't even realized she'd been smiling to herself until she was approached.

"It is an exquisite piece," a smooth voice behind her remarked.

"Indeed."

He approached her from the side but spoke directly to the painting; she found his method intriguing, but she couldn't tear her eyes away either.

"Are you familiar with Degas's work?"

She nodded, though she doubted he could see it.

"I wasn't aware that this was in a private collection."

"My friend is a patron of the arts," he laughed. "But he also loves to view them from the luxury of his own home."

He turned to face her and extended his hand. When she mirrored him, he smiled, and she couldn't believe how handsome he was in person. She tried not to look into his eyes; they held a danger and hardness that hadn't been exaggerated in photographs.

"Sebastian."

She offered him a small smile.

"Valentina."

She turned her head back to the painting and admired it further. She knew he wouldn't be offended. A man like him was used to getting what he wanted; her aloof manner was sure to spark his interest.

"Are you a friend of Frederic's?"

Before she could answer, the man in question joined them. He reached instantly for Ziva's hand and kissed it gallantly.

"Ma cherie, I am so glad you could make it," he smiled.

"Hello, Frederic. Thank you for inviting me. You have a beautiful home."

"I will give you a tour later. You simply must see the pond at night time. There's nothing like it."

"I would like that," she smiled.

"Sebastian, have you had the pleasure of meeting the enchanting Miss Herrera? She just moved here."

"Just now actually," he continued to look at her. "She's quite the Degas fan."

"She's looking to open a gallery in Georgetown!" Frederic announced proudly. "How did the meeting with your realtor go?"

"Very well, thank you. We have one or two places of interest."

"Sebastian, I invited Valentina because she's a fellow newcomer to the States and positively delightful to talk to."

The man in question nodded, but kept his eyes on Ziva.

"I hope I get to find out more about her."

"Maybe you would if you addressed her when speaking," she winked.

Frederic roared and even Sebastian gave a small a laugh.

"I see what you mean, Frederic," Sebastian smirked and patted his friend on the back. He took Ziva's hand and kissed it. "There is something different about you, Valentina. I do hope I get to find out what it is."

* * *

><p>"That better be pepperoni."<p>

Tim sighed.

"I think I learned my lesson the last time, Tony. This one's just pepperoni. I got my own with mushrooms."

He placed the pizza boxes by Tony's seat and reached for two bottles of soda in the mini-fridge.

"What's happening?"

Tony took a giant bite of his pizza before answering. He moaned at its cheesy-meaty goodness; he couldn't remember the last time he'd had pizza. Ziva was such a terrific cook, there was really no need to order out.

"Frenchie hit on Ziva, but our guy's making a move, too."

Tim sat down beside him. He'd noticed the predatory look Sebastian was giving her, but it wouldn't do any good to point it out. Tony already seemed on edge.

"She's doing great."

"What?"

Tony pointed to the screen as if it were obvious.

"Ziva. She's charming the pants off these people. Not that I'm surprised or anything."

Tim took a giant gulp of soda while he figured out what to say next, but Tony spoke first.

"What's your take on Sebastian?"

Tim stalled.

"Uhh, what do you mean?"

"What do you think of him?"

"Uhh..."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I'm asking you a question. Do you think he's guilty?"

Tim heaved a sigh of relief.

"Oh, I thought you were asking if I thought he was good-looking."

Tony scoffed.

"Give me some credit, Probie. I just wanted to know what vibe you got. I think he could go either way at this point."

Tim pondered his friend's opinion.

"I guess you're right. He doesn't look like the type of guy who'd want to bomb a Navy ship. He looks too...James Bond for that kind of behavior."

If there were ever a time he wished for a rewind button, it'd be now. Tim wondered where his tact went and bowed his head in shame, hoping Tony would take pity on his lapse of judgment and not murder him on the spot.

It was a few minutes before Tony spoke, and the sound of his voice caused Tim to jump high out of his seat; the low, serious tone was the one he reserved for his moments of introspection.

"You really think he's attractive?" he asked quietly. "He's older than me, you know."

Tim sighed.

"Tony, this is going to get a little weird here, so I'll just rush it out as fast as I can. Yes, I think he's a good-looking man. But there's something about him that creeps me out. His eyes are scary, you know? And I uhh...I mean this will be the first and last time I admit this, but you know...you're an attractive man, and I think, well you know..." He cleared his throat and ignored the amused grin on Tony's face. "I just think that you're better looking that's all," he rushed out in a breath.

Tony smiled gratefully.

"That was the hardest thing you've ever had to say, wasn't it?"

Tim nodded.

"I swear if you tell anyone I'll tell them about that time you said Gibbs's name in your sleep."

Tony's jaw dropped.

"I was having a nightmare!"

"Not the way I'll tell it," Tim smirked. "So keep your mouth shut or I'll have everyone thinking you were moaning for Gibbs."

"I've taught you well, Grasshopper."

Tim nodded, pleased with himself.

"The student has become the teacher."

"Alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

They watched some more footage of Ziva and Sebastian talking. It looked like he was giving her a private tour of Montagne's mansion. They could both hear the lighthearted sound of Ziva's laughter; Sebastian had a keen sense of humor, and it didn't go unnoticed by either agent. Sensing that Tony needed a distraction, Tim nudged his shoulder.

"What were you and Jimmy talking about today?"

Tony smiled.

"He asked me to be godfather."

"Wow. Congratulations, Tony. That's a really big deal."

He smiled again and laughed softly.

"Yeah, it is. I was really flattered actually."

"I'm really happy for you."

He clapped Tim on the shoulder.

"Thanks."

"Gonna use it as practice?"

Tony's jaw dropped and he stared at Tim in disbelief.

"Did you just..."

"I am so sorry," Tim gushed, "I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Tony shot him a sidelong glance and snorted.

"I know what's wrong with you. You've been hanging out with me too long, that's what. You've got no filter anymore."

"Probably."

They watched a few more minutes of Ziva mingling-now they were back with the other guests, and it seemed that most of the guests were highly intoxicated-before Tony laughed.

"I can't wait to practice my Brando."

Tim groaned.

"That's not what I meant when I said that, but _that_ scares me even more."

"I know what you meant, Tim," Tony replied. "I'll let you decide that one on your own."

"For what it's worth, you'll be great."

"Thanks."

"As a dad, too."

Tony looked Tim in the eye and instantly felt uncomfortable. He didn't want to admit how much that meant to him, how much he'd worried about that. But the fact that his friend had willingly offered that compliment really meant something. And it was taking all of Tony's power not to show it.

"Thanks," he choked out.

"You two done with the girl talk?"

Two heads whipped around to face their boss standing at the door to MTAC with his arms crossed.

"All done, Boss," Tony stammered.

"Good," Gibbs barked. "Now fill me in. We got anything yet?"

"Ziva's heading home now. She's got a date with Wolff on Saturday."

"Good," Gibbs nodded. "Head home. You're done for tonight."

They scrambled out the door with little convincing. Tony felt his phone buzz as he re-entered the bull pen.

_Exhausted. Getting out of this dress the minute I get home._

Tony smiled at the message and typed one back.

_Wish I could help you with that._

"Hey Tony," McGee shouted. "What are you up to tonight?"

Tony read the second message before answering.

_Sorry, not tonight. Tomorrow morning though? _

He typed a reply and thought about the bonding he and Tim had done this evening. He was glad Ziva wasn't interested tonight-he wouldn't mind spending it with McGoo.

_You got it._

"Nothing at all. How 'bout a drink?"

"Only if you're buying."

"First one's on me."

* * *

><p>Ziva collapsed on her soft bed as soon as she entered her apartment. It felt good to get out of her gown, as beautiful as it was, and relax in pajamas. Though she was tired, she felt oddly energized by tonight's events. She was rather fond of Frederic-he was friendly, and genuine, and loved to laugh. She admired his happy spirit. His guests were fun and seemed really interested in helping her "business" flourish. They all offered to invest in her gallery, and she felt strangely flattered.<p>

She hated to admit that she found Sebastian to be...something else entirely. She wouldn't deny how charming he was, but she hadn't realized that he was also incredibly smart, well-versed in art and all other matters, and knew how to make her laugh. His sense of humor was sharp like a tack, and she found that she didn't have to pretend to be enjoying herself. She couldn't get a read on him, and that scared her. He didn't seem like he was involved in any scheme associated with Rolf Amsel, but appearances meant nothing. Her phone buzzed, and she smiled, expecting a goodnight text from Tony.

_It was absolutely incredible meeting you tonight, Valentina. Here's to seeing you Saturday._

When she realized that her face had broken out in a huge grin, she knew she was in trouble. Ziva David did not lose it in a mission. She needed to find herself, and she needed to do it fast.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this was long, folks. <strong>

**If you know me at all, you'll know that I immensely enjoyed describing Ziva's gowns. I actually compiled a description of the gowns Penelope Cruz usually wears and made it into something that would look amazing on Ziva.**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**


	11. Chapter 11

**T****hank you for all your reviews on the last chapter! If I forgot to respond to your review, I sincerely apologize.**

**For those of you on the verge of hysteria, take a deep breath. Keep in mind that I have yet to steer you wrong (I hope). And if you feel as though you're losing all your faith in me, just take a gander at the two main characters of this story. They're it for me, and I can't see it any other way.**

**I would also like to thank those of you for keeping an open mind about the mysterious Sebastian.**

**I hope you all find him as hard to hate as Ziva does.**

* * *

><p>"Are you going to finish that?"<p>

Tony looked down at his half-eaten plate in a daze. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been eating; his burger was cooked to perfection, his fries-waffle, of course, with the perfect amount of cajun seasoning-were _just_ crunchy enough, and he'd even loved the fancy schmancy bun they toasted. Even if it sounded like something an old lady wore.

What was it called? Brioche?

"Tony."

_Nope_, he corrected himself, _that's brooch_. _The bread's brioche_.

_Why do women wear brooches anyway? They're kind of gaudy. Like a Mr. T on a scale of gaudy._

When he failed to answer her again, Abby raised her voice.

"Tony!"

"What?" he looked around, confused, and grinned sheepishly. "Oh, sorry. What were you saying?"

She narrowed her eyes and gave him her best threatening look. Tony tried not to smile, but she looked pretty adorable, like a puppy trying to intimidate a rottweiler.

"Well first I asked you a question about Palmer but then I asked you if you were going to finish your fries. You weren't paying attention," she said crossly.

"Sorry." He pushed his plate towards her. "Have at it. What about Palmer?"

She huffed and leaned back in her chair. She didn't like being ignored; should she let him sit there and feel guilty? Quickly she realized that an answer to her question was more important than making a point.

"I asked if you and Ziva were doing a joint thing for the shower, or if you were getting something on your own. I wasn't sure if we should go in on one big present."

Tony pondered her question. He hadn't really thought about it all that much, not for a while anyway, but he had an idea or two cooking in his head. He and Ziva certainly hadn't talked about it. But he was the kid's godfather-he'd have to figure out something.

"I don't know, Abs. To be honest, I haven't thought about it. But I guess I should, right? Is it next week?"

"Tony!" she scolded. "It's_ this_ week! On Saturday!"

He had the good graces to look embarrassed.

"Oops."

She didn't look at all pleased.

"Well, men don't usually go anyway."

Her mouth opened in shock, frustration, and a little anger. He braced himself for the upcoming tirade.

"And Jimmy made you godfather _because_?" she shook her head impatiently. "Tony, Palmer told us last week that they were doing something simple. Just a small party so that it wasn't just women. Breena didn't want all that fuss."

This sounded vaguely familiar. Now that she mentioned it, Tony remembered being down in autopsy; Jimmy chatted away about plans for the shower while he cut into a dead sailor. He made a joke involving showers, intestines, and the high seas, but Jimmy didn't get it. His humor really was wasted sometimes. Ducky ruled accidental overdose; for once there had been no foul play. Guilt consumed him as the memories returned.

Where had his mind been lately? How could he forget Jimmy's kid's shower?

He wasn't sure he needed to answer his own question; he knew exactly where it had been, where it still was.

"Right, right," he nodded. "Well, I kind of had an idea in mind, it's just a thought though. I haven't really given it a lot of consideration."

Abby leaned in eagerly.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking of starting a college fund. You know, stick a hundred bucks in an account. And every birthday and Christmas I'll add some more into it. I'll make sure there are good presents, too," he added. "But, that could be kind of different. I mean, it wouldn't be all that much probably, but it's something, you know? He or she could spend it however. College, strippers, not my call."

He contemplated his idea and realized that he'd need to do something else. Could he really just hand the kid money? Would a small gift be enough?

Abby beamed.

"Oh Tony! That's so thoughtful!"

If they weren't at a restaurant, despite the fact that it was a simple one, she'd probably tackle him in a hug. He could see the look in her eyes-she wouldn't forget. When the opportunity came, Tony was getting that hug.

"You think? It's not too lame, right?" he asked worriedly. "I don't want to be the lame uncle who gives bad presents," he shuddered. "Or my dad."

"Well, he won't remember the first few years anyway. And by the time he's older you'll have spoiled him so much it might not matter."

"I guess." Tony stopped mid-thought and eyed her suspiciously. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"You said he."

"Did I?"

"Yes," he accused. "You definitely said he. And more than once."

Abby shifted in her chair. She toyed with the chains on her pants and gave them all her attention. The clinking sound they made had suddenly become very interesting.

"I'm not supposed to know," she whispered.

Her voice sounded small and childlike, like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She still couldn't look Tony in the eye. She tried her best to ignore his investigator voice, the soft, but very eager-to-listen tone that never failed on her.

"Then how _do_ you?"

She shrugged.

"Abby," he coaxed, "How do you know it's a boy?"

"I overheard Jimmy on the phone the other day," she admitted.

He couldn't help but laugh. He could hear the defeat in her voice.

"You wouldn't hold up in a torture scenario."

"I can't help that you're an investigational wizard, Tony!" she defended. "You practically pulled the words out of my mouth."

Tony nodded with satisfaction. Abby could be tight-lipped when she wanted to, but he always got her to sing like a canary. He thought about this new-found information. Jimmy and Breena would be so disappointed if they knew people knew about the sex.

"We'll have to keep it a secret now."

She bit her lip and smirked mischievously.

"Like the time we prank-called McGee and told him he needed to-"

Tony clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't finish that. We don't know who's listening."

Her eyes widened and she nodded in compliance.

* * *

><p>Ziva closed her eyes as she sank further in the tub. She submerged herself so that only her head and part of her neck out of the water. She was grateful for the towel she'd rolled up as a headrest on the edge of the bath; without it, she'd probably slide all the way in.<p>

Music played softly in the room and dim lights provided a comforting warmth. Smells of her favorite candles-sandalwood, vanilla, and jasmine-made it feel like her old apartment. Despite the fact that this one was twice as big and twice as gorgeous, she still felt a little homesick.

She liked that the water was hotter than usual; it soothed the aches in her legs. It had been a while-longer than she cared to admit-since she'd last used those specific muscles, but it had been incredible exploring them again. The burn awakened her dormant ballerina, the one she'd hidden for so long.

She couldn't believe how much she missed dancing until she'd taken it up again. Thankfully, her cover afforded her ample time to revisit her long-lost passion. She practiced at a studio not too far from her new apartment at least twice a week. She'd been more than willing to rent the hour of private time for her own use, and the up-and-coming studio certainly needed the money. There was a class that finished before her, and she'd wait patiently outside the room, watching little girls chatter excitedly about their lesson and everything else little girls discussed. A flurry of tulle would whizz passed her and she'd share a small smile with the tired instructor until it was finally safe to enter. And then she'd lose herself in the motions and music till the polite cleaning lady kicked her out.

Ziva had grown to love the routine almost as much as her weekly updates with the team in her apartment. They enjoyed her meals, and Abby was always excited to hear about her day, even if she knew most of what went on already from surveillance. She missed not seeing the team every day; she missed her job.

But most of all, she missed Tony.

He made a point of meeting with her whenever he could-he always came early to help cook for the team-but it wasn't the same and they both knew it. They wouldn't be able to finally relax till the mission was over. Till then they settled for awkward smiles and the time alone that they could salvage. Thinking about him, and the way her pillows no longer held his scent, brought tears to her eyes.

She pushed him to the back of her mind. There was no room for emotions right now. They were already getting her in a whole lot of trouble.

The sound of her phone ringing cut Ziva's bath short. She heaved a long sigh and grabbed the nearest towel, ignoring the wet trail she left in her wake as she raced to beat the voicemail.

"Hello?"

_"Ah, ma cherie, I am so sorry to bother you."_

She smiled at the familiar voice.

"Not a bother at all, Frederic, I was just getting out of the bath."

She could hear him laughing on the other end.

"_You're going to give an old man a heart attack_," he warned. "_I just called to confirm that we were on for tomorrow night. Sebastian hasn't returned my messages_."

Ziva tightened the towel around her and paced around her bedroom.

"I have not spoken to him today, Frederic. I know he had a business mishap to take care of in London, perhaps he isn't home yet? Not to worry, though. I am sure he will be back for our dinner. I do wish you could have joined us at the ballet too, though."

"_I have seen Swan Lake far too many times, my dear," he chuckled. "But I shall see you tomorrow at Le Cirque. Until then_."

She said her goodbyes and let herself fall backwards onto her bed. Where had Sebastian gone? She'd tried calling him twice today and if Frederic hadn't heard from him, there had to be something going on. It was unlike Sebastian to let his old friend worry.

She'd come to adore Frederic. He was sweet, funny, and a great person to spend time with. He joked good-naturedly about her beauty but had never made a lecherous remark or hit on her distastefully. Ziva appreciated that about Frederic, and she genuinely enjoyed being around him. He always offered to visit a new gallery or exhibit together, and just last week they'd gone to see an old movie playing in a theatre nearby. She had also come to see how much Frederic cared for his friend. She hoped that he wouldn't be too hurt when everything panned out.

When the doorbell rang just a few minutes later, she cursed. The team wasn't supposed to be here for another hour, and she hadn't even begun to prepare dinner. She guessed it was Tony, arriving early to help.

She grabbed her favorite silk robe, hoping she could surprise him at the door. When she threw it open, she paled in shock.

"Sebastian," she gasped.

He eyed her, very discreetly, from top to bottom. He broke into a grin and she could see the mischief sparkle in his usually fierce eyes.

"You didn't have to dress up for me."

She narrowed her eyes and pulled the robe tighter. He stepped forward, and she leaned her cheek in. He kissed it happily and strolled inside.

"Where have you been for the past two days?" she asked with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. She'd also been a little worried. The idea that he might be off meeting with seedy characters didn't sit well in her stomach.

Sebastian heaved dramatically and rolled his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe the nightmare I've had to endure," he complained. "I am almost certain that Eloise and Marc make mistakes just to rile me up and have me waste precious fuel. There is no other way to explain their incompetence."

Ziva couldn't help but smile. She'd heard a lot about his two assistants; they seemed to be more trouble than they were worth. She wrapped her arms around his waist loosely and pulled back to stare at him. Idly she wondered how Gibbs would handle them.

"Well you are back now," she replied in a low voice that she knew drove him crazy.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Did you miss me?"

She shrugged and walked towards the kitchen.

"I think Frederic missed you more."

She looked over her shoulder and winked.

His laugh echoed as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Get dressed. I have a surprise."

"Now?"

"Yes now," he insisted. "I think you'll really like it."

"But..." she trailed off._ I am supposed to see the team. And Tony._

"Do you have plans already?"

Sebastian looked so excited. She felt incredibly torn.

"I was supposed to be meeting a potential client. Let me see if I can reschedule."

The smile that spread across his face told her she'd done the right thing, even if the guilty gnawed at her from within.

She sent a quick text message to Tony and got a reply almost instantly.

_Do it. We can meet tomorrow._

She sighed and typed a response back.

I have the ballet tomorrow.

_Okay, tomorrow morning. We'll meet at that coffee place with the great croissants. _

Ziva guessed that he'd be twenty pounds heavier by the end of this mission. Tony had developed a real love for those chocolate croissants.

That works for me.

_See you then. Love you_.

She bit her lip and wondered how she got so lucky. Tony had shown little jealously since she'd started this over a month ago. The only thing she saw in his eyes was concern, and she loved him even more for it. He knew she was struggling with maintaining professionalism. She really liked Sebastian, and wanted to do whatever she could to prove him innocent.

Love you, too.

Sebastian re-entered the kitchen with something in his hand. He hid it behind his back and winked-whatever it was, she wasn't supposed to see.

"Hurry up, this surprise has an expiration date."

* * *

><p>"Never mind, Boss," Tony sighed. "We can stay late after all."<p>

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at his senior agent's dejected tone. McGee took one look at Tony's hand clutching his cell phone and went right back to working.

"Wolff's surprised her."

Gibbs nodded but wisely didn't comment. He could practically see Tony's frustration roll off his shoulders. He allowed a few minutes to pass before clearing his throat.

"So he's back in the States then."

"Yep. Just in time for the ballet tomorrow."

Tony leaned forward and begin typing. His heavy pounding alerted the odd passerby, and Gibbs knew he'd have to intervene. He walked right up to Tony's desk and waited for Tony to meet his gaze.

"She's just doing her job, DiNozzo," he said slowly.

"I know, Boss."

"She's not falling for him," he added.

"I know, Boss."

Gibbs shot him a disbelieving glance.

"_Do you_?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so I'm a little skeptical. She's just...she cares about him."

Gibbs walked around the desk so he could give Tony the head slap he desperately needed.

"Trust her, DiNozzo. She might care about him, but she'd never throw out what she has with you. There's no way that this guy could steal her away. He's not nearly annoying enough."

Tony grinned. He recognized the sarcastic remark for what it was: genuine reassurance that he had nothing to worry about.

"Thanks," he smirked.

Gibbs nodded and walked back to his desk.

"Now get to work," he barked. "You took a long enough lunch with Abby. You and McGee are using this time to through PFC Downing's bank records. Might want to order in."

"Yes, Boss," they said in unison.

* * *

><p>"Is this really necessary?"<p>

"We're almost here," Sebastian assured her. "I promise."

She felt the fabric against her eyes. Wearing a blindfold brought back the lingering anxiety from a time she'd rather not remember. She'd never been comfortable with one since, and she fought to keep her heart rate steady and her breathing normal. It would be too hard to explain otherwise.

The car stopped a few minutes later and he gently guided her to the curb. When he was satisfied with their location, he removed his tie from her eyes and tapped her cheek with his finger.

"Open sesame."

She cocked her head and stared in confusion.

"The Kennedy Center? The show is not until tomorrow."

Sebastian smiled harder than she'd ever seen. She wondered how this man could be the same one from the photographs, and even from their initial meeting. He was so sweet with her. And she'd done the best digging she could-from a general surveillance of his lavish townhouse to as many questions as she could ask Frederic without raising suspicion. Something wasn't adding up, and it bothered her.

He pulled her towards the giant building and shook hands with the man guarding the door.

"Everything is ready, Mr. Wolff." he smiled.

Sebastian slipped a fifty dollar bill in his hand and ushered Ziva inside.

She took one look around the empty concert hall and still couldn't figure it out. She wasn't one for surprises; she never had been.

"Sebastian," she sighed. "What is going on?"

He pointed to the stage, empty except for the set design. He motioned for her to follow as they approached the side entrance.

"This is your surprise," he smiled. "Didn't you wonder why I told you not to dress up? As much as I wanted to see you in those pants you're wearing, I definitely had a reason."

"I don't understand."

He laughed.

"Valentina,_ this_ is your surprise," he gestured towards the stage. "I asked you to wear these clothes because I've arranged for you to dance. There. On stage."

The shock hit her like a ton of bricks. Excitement bubbled in her veins at the possibility of dancing in the Kennedy Center.

"You've got two hours to do whatever you want," he explained. "I'm not going to be here. This is your moment."

She closed her mouth temporarily to protest.

"But I don't have my-"

He held up the bag he'd taken from her apartment; inside were her shoes.

"No excuses," he clucked. "Go up there and get your time in the spotlight."

"Why?" she whispered in awe. "Why did you go to all of this trouble?"

He kissed her forehead.

"I've never seen you happier than after you spend time in that ruddy studio. I know you say you're not that great, but I don't care. I want you to feel as special as I see you every day."

Her bottom lip trembled.

"You are unlike any other woman I've met before, Valentina," he said softly. "And I know...I know that I might be a bit older than you, but you never cease to amaze me. I wanted to do this so that you might see how much I've come to care for you."

A tear slipped down Ziva's cheek. She certainly cared about him, but not the way he did for her. She loved spending time with Sebastian, and she loved the way he kept her on her toes, but she didn't return his feelings. She had a soft spot for him, absolutely, but her heart belonged to someone else, like it always had. She'd known for some time that he'd crossed the line from friendship, that she meant more to him than he to her. The guilt was staggering.

She pretended, just for a little while, that Tony and the rest of the team couldn't hear everything they were saying. It was too much to handle at the moment.

Mossad officer Ziva David was _not_ one to lose control of her emotions. But Special Agent Ziva David had a hard time separating herself from this case.

"Thank you," she choked. "This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me."

He waved a hand in dismissal.

"Don't thank me. Now go dance your heart out. I'll see you in two hours."

* * *

><p>"Uh, Boss?"<p>

McGee cleared his throat and waited for Gibbs to look at him.

"Are you just going to stand there, McGee?" he replied without lifting his head. "Or are you going to tell me what you found?"

Tony noticed his friend's hesitation. He approached Gibbs's desk and eyed Tim warily.

"Spit it out, McStutter," he urged. "What's going on?"

Tim gulped.

"Got a hit from Interpol. They said they found Sebastian in a cafe just outside Central London yesterday."

"We already know he was in London," Gibbs sighed.

"Yeah but he wasn't alone."

McGee glanced between Gibbs and Tony; their intimidating stares made him nervous, mainly because he knew they wouldn't like what he had to say.

"Amsel was with him."

* * *

><p>Ziva practically floated out of the Kennedy Center. She'd never been so delirious before, and she couldn't rid her face of its giant smile even if she tried. Sebastian's driver greeted her with a polite nod and opened the door. As she slid into the back seat, she found a bouquet of peonies, which she'd absentmindedly revealed was her favorite flower, and a small, white card.<p>

_I hope you enjoyed your moment in the spotlight. I have no doubt you were nothing short of magnificent. -S_

She leaned her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. She thought about the way her head rushed as she stepped onto the stage, the way her blood pumped as she leapt across it. Sebastian grabbed her bag that contained her usual music, and she was content with using those songs for the duration of her practice-that is, until Alexi Sidorov, the male lead in Swan Lake, joined her on stage.

Ziva stood there in total shock as he approached her. She hadn't included Russian in her cover story, so she couldn't speak to him in his native language. She gaped when he asked if she wanted to learn a routine from the show; he took it as a "yes" and switched the music.

She couldn't believe the feeling she'd experienced when he gracefully lifted her in the air; it was unlike anything she'd ever imagined. He twirled her effortlessly across the stage, and for a moment, _just a moment_, she felt like an entirely different person. She wondered what her mother and Tali would say if they saw her now. What her father and Ari would say. Or even her team now.

She was free, and she never wanted it to end.

When the car pulled up to her apartment, she realized that it would. And she felt a tiny piece of her heart break off and float away.

* * *

><p>"I am merely suggesting that another chocolate croissant might mean going up a pants size," she shrugged. "Are you prepared to do that?"<p>

Tony scoffed.

"I'm in the best shape of my-" he rethought that statement when he saw Ziva's eyebrows raise. "Well, in the past few years."

She said nothing further as he inhaled his third chocolate croissant. She was still working through her first apple turnover.

"Did you have fun last night?"

Ziva gauged his expression; his tone contained a hint, _just a hint_, of jealously, but she heard it nonetheless.

"I did. I enjoyed the time to myself, and the opportunity to meet a famous dancer."

Tony nodded.

"I'm glad," he smiled.

She wondered if he were more relieved that she hadn't spent the time with Sebastian.

"I'd like to see you dance sometime, if you're okay with that."

"Really?"

Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Of course. You've been practicing so much lately. I'd really love to see you in action." He took another bite of his croissant and ignored the chocolate oozing at the corner of his mouth. "Plus, I have a feeling it's a total turn-on."

She rolled her eyes.

"I miss that crude humor."

"How could you not?"

He batted his eyelashes and she couldn't help but laugh as she finally cleaned the chocolate from his mouth.

"I am worried, Tony," she admitted after a few minutes of silence. "Something doesn't feel right and I...don't know where to put my finger."

"I think you were going for 'can't put your finger on it,'" he corrected gently. "And I am, too."

"You said that Sebastian met Amsel in London?"

Tony nodded and swallowed his coffee. He winced as it burned his throat.

"That's what Interpol said. Has he mentioned anything more about him to you?"

The idea that he suspected she would keep something from him when they'd come so far together really pissed her off.

"I have told you everything, Tony," she snapped. "He never mentioned him by name. Just that he was still friendly with some people from college but hadn't made a big effort to keep in touch with them. I am not hiding anything from you."

"That's not what I meant, Zi-"

"Do not finish that thought," she sighed. "I am sorry for getting excited. I just...don't believe that Sebastian is as awful as we think. And Frederic...he is so wonderful. I hate using him."

Tony reached under the table and grabbed her hand. He could see how much she was struggling with this assignment and his heart broke for her. He knew she'd get hurt, and that's what he feared all along.

"I'm sorry, Zi. I've been in your shoes, or close to them, and it's not fun. It's not easy to hurt someone you care about, and maybe one day you can properly apologize to Frederic." He paused as he tried to word himself correctly. "I don't know if Sebastian is innocent, I'll be honest with you. If he gave that money to Amsel..."

She nodded as he trailed off. She knew that meant she'd have to apprehend him. But that thought twisted her insides and made her sick. He was so good to her, and Frederic, and the stories she'd heard him tell of his family..._no,_ she decided. _He had to be innocent_.

She couldn't talk about him anymore.

"Are we doing a joint present for Jimmy's shower?"

Tony looked at her in surprise.

"I didn't know that we were thinking of that."

She blushed.

"I just thought...well, Abby had asked me earlier this week..." she scrambled. "Never mind, I have no problem getting a present on my own. You should probably get something bigger anyway."

"If I'd known you were thinking about it, too, we could have absolutely done a joint thing, Zi," he said in a soft voice. "I'm sorry."

She smiled awkwardly.

"Don't be. We have not been on the same page lately, and it is my fault."

"It's Vance's fault."

Ziva finished the last of her turnover.

"Perhaps it is."

"We'll figure it out."

The false sense of confidence in his voice unsettled her. He was supposed to be her rock. What if the rock began to crumble?

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know," she smiled tightly. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>The shower went off without a hitch. Jimmy and Breena loved their presents and thanked everyone profusely. Ducky went a little nuts, buying almost everything he could think of. He figured it was the closest he'd get to a grandchild, though he didn't admit it out loud. Tony took the parents-to-be aside to give his real gift, but let everyone else see the fancy baby monitor set that he said could double as walkie-talkies till the baby was born. Only Ziva and Abby knew that he'd done something else.<p>

Though it had been two days since the shower, Ziva couldn't get it out of her mind. Abby casually mentioned to her that she thought Tony would make a good godfather. Ziva emphatically agreed; she hadn't talked to him about it a whole lot since her mission, but she knew he was thrilled. It was when Abby said that she thought Tony would use it as a chance to work on his parenting skills that freaked her out. She must've been as pale as a sheet, because her reaction sent Abby backpedaling and changing the subject faster than she'd ever seen.

But it was Abby's next comment that hurt her more than she would ever admit, even to Tony.

_"Well, not that you were thinking of becoming a mother, I know that's not your thing..."_

Ziva sucked in a breath as she recalled her words. She hadn't said anything to Abby after that, just got up and left the fumbling goth stewing in her pile of accidental word vomit. Abby was too embarrassed to chase after her.

Tony tried to ask her what happened, but Ziva wouldn't budge. She said she was feeling ill, despite the fact that Tony saw through her, and left ten minutes later. She had cried the whole way home from Jimmy's apartment, and was still crying when she walked into her kitchen and made coffee.

She had three missed calls from Tony and a voicemail threatening that he'd break down the door if she didn't call him back. But she couldn't face him. What if he thought that of her, too?

She'd fought hard to shake those fears from her mind. She'd known they were irrational. But seeing his face just then would have been way too painful. She couldn't project her fears onto him when she knew he'd be nothing but supportive.

It had been two days since, and she still hadn't talked to Abby. Tony's curiosity was overwhelming at this point, and she knew it by the tone of his questions, but she'd kept her answers to a minimum. She wouldn't have Tony mad at his oldest friend at NCIS. Not because of her.

Ziva pulled her sweater closer as she walked towards Sebastian's townhouse. There was an unnatural chill in the air that made the hairs on her neck stand up. She'd been feeling off her game since Abby's comment, and it did her no good to think about it when she had to meet Sebastian. He seemed troubled on the phone; she offered to come over and listen if he needed someone to talk to.

She knocked on his door with some trepidation. What had him upset? Had he discovered her secret?

"Thank you for coming over," he smiled tiredly as he greeted her.

She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

"I am here to listen."

When they settled at the kitchen table, she cleared her throat and began speaking.

"Alright, spill. Something is bothering you."

He smirked.

"You're very intuitive, Valentina. Or maybe I'm just that obvious."

"I would say a bit of both," she replied as she reached over and gently grabbed his hand. "What is wrong?"

He sighed and used his free hand to rub his face.

"I am afraid I have been taken for a fool."

Ziva tried to keep calm. She wondered if he could hear her heart beating in her rib cage.

"What happened?"

Sebastian looked her straight in the eye, and for the first time in a while, she could see the coldness, the ferocity of his gaze.

"I allowed myself to be duped, that's what," he growled.

She used her her thumb to stroke the hand she was holding in an attempt to calm him down.

"I need more information than that, mi querido," she sighed. "I cannot help you if I don't know how."

He took a few deep breaths and shut his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, Ziva could see that he'd done his best to compose himself, but his frazzled state still seeped through the mask.

"There is a reason I don't keep in touch with many old friends, Valentina. And it is because I never liked the same things they did. I was foolish enough to re-connect with one of them not too long ago, and now I feel that I have been taken on a ride."

Ziva prayed that her heart beat wasn't as loud as it was in her ears. She wasn't sure she'd trust her own voice to speak. She nodded and hoped that would suffice as a signal to continue.

"He sought me out last February," Sebastian explained. "He claimed that it was because he wanted to become re-acquainted. He said he'd just moved to London and wanted to see a familiar face."

Ziva pulled back at the way he spat his last words. She hadn't really witnessed him like this, with this much anger in his voice.

"We met a few times here and there, but I could tell that that was all we'd be. Just old college friends that met for drinks once a month."

"Until?" she prodded weakly.

"Until he showed up at my doorstep in an absolute panic four months ago. He looked like a mess-he hadn't shaved, he'd been up all night, and he was barely making much sense."

"What did he want?"

Sebastian sighed.

"My help. He said he'd gotten in too deep with some gambling debts and couldn't get himself out. I knew his type," he snorted. "Hell, I'd been there in my lifetime, too. A few too many rounds of blackjack in Monte Carlo and you're ten million dollars poorer. Sometimes twenty if you've had a stroke of bad luck."

Ziva's eyes widened. Twenty million dollars lost to gambling?

"Did he ask you for money?"

Sebastian nodded and reclaimed her hand; it gave him comfort, and she could see the way it visibly kept him centered.

"Twenty-five million euros," he replied matter-of-factly. "With the slight chance that he'd need an extra five for interest."

"Sebastian," she gasped. "You didn't..."

He nodded again.

"We set up a payment plan. He'd be able to pay back fifteen of it within two months, when the banks un-froze his assets. We agreed that three million per year after that would be fine."

"And then what happened?"

"He's paid back fifteen million so far," Sebastian explained. "I have no doubt I'll receive my money. He's always been a man of his word, and I trusted that I'd see my loan back. That's not the problem."

He took another deep breath.

"I don't think my money was used to pay off loan sharks," he growled.

"What makes you say that?"

Sebastian shook his head in frustration and anger.

"I should have known, really," he snorted in derision. "I should have known that he hadn't grown up, that he still had these wild, ridiculous ideas that were fanatical at best and psychopathic at worst."

"I do not understand..."

The guilt on Sebastian's face broke her heart. He seemed truly distraught by his story.

"Valentina," he said quietly. "This man I leant the money to...he is not a good person. I thought he'd changed, I guess I just fooled myself into believing he had. But either way, he is not a good man. And I helped him."

He got up and paced the room. She followed after him and gently grabbed his wrist, afraid of upsetting him. She wasn't sure what he'd do if he mistakenly thought he was being provoked.

"My roommate in college...he's done some terrible things. And I think I set them in motion. I think I'm responsible."

"I don't understand," she begged. It surprised her how genuine her fear was. "Please, just tell me what I am missing here, Sebastian. You're frightening me."

Sebastian stared at her for what seemed like hours before he spoke again.

"Many innocent people have died, Valentina. And it is because I was foolish enough to trust someone who never should have been trusted."

He heaved a sigh and pointed to the piles of luggage by the door. How had they escaped her notice when she entered?

"I'm leaving the US tonight, Valentina. I have to get away. I cannot...I can't face the horror of what I have caused."

"Sebastian, please, there has to be some other way to fix this," she pleaded.

She now had a confession. She could save him.

"I've stayed far too long here already. And it was mainly because of you."

He shook his head and very gently cupped her face with his hand. He stared, memorizing her features, and smiled tenderly.

"Come with me."

Her jaw dropped.

"What?"

"You heard me," he answered. "Come with me. We can leave together tonight. Pack some bags and I can pick you up on the way to the airport. I have my plane-we wouldn't even need to book a flight."

"Sebastian..."

"We could go anywhere. I think a small island would be best, though. I have some property in the Carribbean," he continued.

"Sebastian..."

"Valentina," he pleaded. "Don't finish that thought. Don't tell me you are saying no. I don't want this to be the last time I ever see you. I...can't live with that outcome. I don't want to leave this country without you."

He kissed her, ever-so-gently, and she found that she'd lost the will to fight; though she didn't kiss him back, she didn't push him away, either. She knew this would probably be the last time she saw him and figured he could get one freebie. Some part of her also knew that Tony wouldn't mind.

When she looked into Sebastian's eyes again, however, she saw how honest they were. He was begging her to run away with him, to leave this country and live life as a...fugitive? What would they even do? Would his wealth sustain their anonymity?

But the more she stared at him, the more she found herself powerless to resist. And besides, she reasoned with her weak will, this might be the only way to end it once and for all.

"Alright," she nodded. "What time do I need to be ready?"

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are always appreciated.<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Let's hear it for long weekends!**

* * *

><p>Ziva sat on her windowsill staring out at the cars below. She tucked one leg underneath her and let the other hang down as it kicked the wall. The repetitive motion was a manifestation of her nervousness. She idly wondered if she'd soon feel a bruise.<p>

She searched for her keys and grabbed her backpack when she spotted the familiar black car pull up to the curb. The bag contained contents she hadn't used in what felt like much too long a time; the familiar weight against her shoulder provided her with a comfort she desperately sought.

She locked the door to her apartment and headed downstairs.

"It's showtime."

The uneasy feeling in her gut increased tenfold as she got in the car. Not a word was said when she entered, and she was grateful for it. She needed the time to sort her thoughts out; the inside of her head was more confusing than she could've ever imagined, more confusing than a list of the toughest American idioms. She had to think about her next moves and their implications for all involved. It was a daunting task, but she had to face it. It was the moment she'd been waiting for.

The car slowly neared the private airstrip. The plane was hard to miss-nondescript but enormous in size. It had the telltale markings of a Gulfstream, but no other identifying characteristics. She imagined the inside was lavishly decorated and couldn't help but roll her eyes. It was just like him.

She saw someone standing on the airstrip, right at the plain's staircase. He waved the car forward as close it as it could. When the car stopped, took a deep breath and opened her door.

He smiled as she got out of the car made her way towards him.

"I'm so glad you made it. And not a moment too soon."

Sebastian watched as her face morphed into an expression he couldn't understand. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"Sebastian, I'm sorry," she whispered.

He took hold of her hand, but she gently pulled away. She looked back towards the car and nodded to the driver.

"What's going on, Valentina? Are you not coming with me?" he asked, and she shut her eyes when she heard his voice crack.

"No," she shook her head.

"Is that why you wanted to meet me here? So that you could make a quick getaway?"

His words contained no malice-just sincere heartbreak. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and shook her head once more.

"There is something I have to tell you."

"Whatever it is, I don't care," Sebastian begged. "It won't change my feelings for you."

"I think it might," she said forcefully.

Sebastian watched in shock as the front doors of the car opened in unison behind her. Two men exited with their badges visible and their guns cocked. Ziva knew he'd seen them get out, and she closed her eyes once more while she anticipated the inevitable.

"Sebastian Wolff," he said calmly. "Special Agent Gibbs, Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I've got some questions for you. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

Tony led Sebastian into the car and shut the door behind him. Ziva turned and watched as they disappeared from her sight.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be okay," Gibbs spoke quietly in her ear.

She placed a hand over his.

"Tony?"

"Both of them."

She sighed.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>"Sebastian."<p>

Ziva tried to get his attention, but he stubbornly refused to meet her gaze. Instead he focused on a small patch of chipped plaster from scratches in the wall opposite him. It was just the two of them in the interrogation room, though Ziva suspected the team was watching on the other side.

"Please look at me," she asked calmly.

He responded several minutes later; she hadn't yet steeled herself for his reaction, and his expression even now was enough to make her nauseous. The betrayal on his face was obvious, his misery impossible to overlook.

"How could you, Valentina?" he asked quietly.

She heaved a sigh and reached into her pocket. She slid her badge across the table.

"My name is Special Agent Ziva David," she began. "Not Valentina Herrera. I work for NCIS. I was on an undercover assignment."

He barely managed to choke out a question before he resumed speechlessness.

"It was my job to get close to you, Sebastian, so that the United States could gain more knowledge about the attack on the _Montesito." _

She continued to look him straight in the eye as she told the truth. He deserved to hear it from her, and she needed to finally come clean. She ignored the guilt that plagued her conscience and harnessed all of her inner strength to maintain professionalism. She focused on resenting the fact that she'd been ordered to take the assignment in the first place. There had to be someone else who could've done a better job, someone who wouldn't have formed a kinship with the suspect in question. Someone who wouldn't risk hurting the love of her life because she developed a soft spot for the suspect, doing everything in her power to prove her new friend's innocence. Someone who could put their instincts aside instead of doggedly pursuing them, especially when her team disagreed. But she hadn't been that person. Why did Vance choose her? Why did_ she_ have to be the one who would now spend an indefinite amount of time salvaging the damage she's caused, some of which might be irreparable?

_You get orders, Ziva. Sometimes you don't like them, but you follow them. That's why they're called orders._

"We are almost certain that Rolf Amsel is responsible, but evidence surfaced that you were the anonymous donor and the means by which Amsel successfully executed his plan. When we received intelligence that you were traveling to the US, we realized that this would be the best chance we would get," she explained. "It was imperative that we learned as much as we could while you were here about the _Montesito_ and your involvement, not to mention affirmed that Amsel was guilty. My assignment was to earn your trust and gather evidence."

Ziva paused to catch her breath. She noticed how he trailed his fingers absentmindedly along the giant scar on his left ear. The faraway look in his eyes irritated her.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" she pressed.

His fingers skimmed back and forth on his ear as he lost himself further in a thought. It surprised her when he began speaking.

"I always wondered why you never asked about my scar."

"What?"

His voice was cold, detached, and unfamiliar. His eyes were eerie orbs that burned into her while he spoke. She once again found the icy in their shade of gray.

"Everyone always asks me how I got it," he answered. "Their questions vary, but they never fail to ask. It's impossible to miss, don't you agree?"

"I suppose."

He tiled his head and stared back at her with furrowed brows.

"Why haven't you?"

Her mouth opened and closed slightly as she weighed her answer.

"We all have scars. That does not mean we want to talk about them."

She could picture Tony wincing on the other side of the glass. He'd seen every one of her scars, and not just the ones on her body.

"You still continue to surprise me, Valentina."

"Ziva," she corrected firmly. "Special Agent David is actually more appropriate."

Sebastian raised his hands in a defensive gesture and nodded his surrender.

"My apologies, Agent David."

"Thank you."

He cleared his throat.

"We were nineteen," he started. "It was the end of our exams, and we'd all went out to celebrate. You can imagine a couple of young men celebrating in a pub. We didn't have the best control back then, you see."

Ziva beckoned him to continue.

"I don't remember exactly what happened next, but the next thing I can actually remember was waking up in the hospital. My friends told me I'd disagreed with something Rolf said. Apparently our levels of inebriation had left us completely unable to react like adults. We started fighting in the bar. He got angry and smashed a bottle on the side of my head."

"What does this have to do with anything?" She asked impatiently.

"The point is, that even then, we knew there was something off with Rolf. We knew he wasn't like us. He hit me with a beer bottle, for Christ's sake."

"Did you remain close with him after this altercation?"

Sebastian nodded.

"We excused his behavior for nothing more than a young man who couldn't handle his liquor. We were just more...cautious about what we said in front of him. We realized that he had a short fuse. And that we would have to tiptoe around to avoid confrontation. He'd shown us on more that one instance after that that he was incapable of reason. His mind worked differently from ours, and we never knew what to expect with him. When we all graduated, like I told you, we parted ways. I was not inclined to stay in touch."

He re-told what he'd mentioned to Ziva in his apartment earlier, and she recorded the information silently, speaking only to make sure she had all the details.

"Ziva, I had no idea that Rolf lied to me until recently. I truly believed that he needed the money to clear gambling debts." He placed his head in his hands and blew a gust of air from his lips. "And now all these people are dead, because of me.."

Ziva blinked the sudden moisture from her eyes. She felt more confused than ever. Her gut believed every word that he'd said. The thought that her instincts could be wrong again, when she needed them to be right more than ever, creeped from her insides and worked its way into her chest. She felt her lungs constrict with the pressure, and she was suddenly losing her ability to keep calm.

"I have to ask one more thing before I ask if I need to get a lawyer," he said wearily. "Did you...ever have feelings for me?"

She closed her eyes. Telling the truth was harder than she thought.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. It was my job to get close to you," she explained. "I...truly did care for you as a friend. Frederic as well. But anything more...I'm sorry, but it wasn't real."

She watched his shoulders deflate and the awkward smile in understanding.

"You were too good to be true," he remarked uncomfortably.

"I was just doing my job."

She winced at the tone of her own voice; the inflection felt weak and her guilt seeped into every word.

"I fell in love with you, you know," he said quietly. "Frederic told me I would, the first night I met you."

He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip. He could no longer meet her gaze, a small mercy she was grateful for.

"I'm guessing I'll need a lawyer now."

She nodded silently and rose from her chair.

"Agents Gibbs and McGee will be in a minute."

She walked towards the door but stopped when she heard him speak.

"It was a pleasure to know you, Valentina," he smiled wanly. "Even if she isn't real, I refuse to believe that she doesn't exist. A part of her lives in you somewhere, and that is the part that I hope you never lose. Never stop dancing, my beautiful Valentina."

She barely managed a smile over her shoulder before she exited the room in a flurry of tears.

* * *

><p>Ziva rushed through the hall, eager to get as far away as she could from that room and the mess she'd made. She hadn't been counting on running into Abby, however. She tried to stop Ziva as she passed her, but Ziva paid her no mind.<p>

"Ziva!"

"What, Abby?" she snapped. She threw her arms up in the air, ignoring the stubborn tears that worked their way down her cheeks. "What could you possibly want to tell me right now that I don't already know? Do you want to tell me that I've ruined everything, that I hurt the man I love because I forgot how to detach myself from a case? That the team lost their faith in me because I did not know how to separate my friendship with Sebastian and Frederic, or that I went above and beyond to fight for the innocence of a man I just met? Or maybe you've come to refresh my memory, in case you think I've forgotten that you feel becoming a mother is 'not my thing?'"

Abby couldn't help but be proud of her correct usage of air quotes. She took a step closer to Ziva and tried again.

"No, Ziva," she replied softly. "I'm not trying to say that. I just wanted-"

Ziva placed a hand up to stop her.

"Save it, Abby. I am not in the mood to hear what you have to say. I cannot deal with it right now."

Abby, despite the very real possibility that she could end up on the ground, took one final step forward and pulled Ziva into a quick hug.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. And that I'm here if you want to talk."

She walked away quietly and Ziva felt yet another piece of her heart crumble.

* * *

><p>It didn't take a rocket scientist to know where she'd be.<p>

He gave it no more than a minute's thought before he left the observation room to follow after her. He stopped at the door when he heard the confrontation in the hallway. It surprised him that Abby dared approach her at her angriest, but sometimes Abby's recklessness was her greatest strength.

_"Or maybe you've come to refresh my memory, in case you think I've forgotten that you feel becoming a mother is 'not my thing?'"_

He sucked in a breath. So _that's_ what had upset her. Tony shook his head, disappointed with Abby's thoughtlessness. He waited until their conversation stopped and the door slammed before he resumed his search.

The door was locked, of course, so he knocked gently.

"This room is occupied," she shouted calmly from the inside.

"It's me," he answered. "Let me in."

He could almost picture her standing in the bathroom, unsure of her next move. He had to stop himself from laughing with relief when she finally opened the door, slowly at first, until he could see her despondent expression staring back at him.

She allowed him to enter before locking the door after him. Unsure of what to say, she paced around the small room, muttering to herself in different languages. When he'd had enough, he gently grabbed her shoulder.

"Hey, I can't help you if I don't understand what you're saying."

She looked up at him with doleful eyes.

"I do not _know_ what to say."

He tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and shrugged.

"Say whatever comes to mind."

She stared at him, drinking him in. He was so eager to help; she didn't deserve him.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why aren't you mad at me?"

He stared at her in confusion and laughed.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

The curious tone of his voice threw her over the edge and she burst into tears. The stress of everything had finally overcome her, and she could control herself no longer. She backed into the door and slid down, unable to stand on her own two feet. He lowered himself beside her slowly and waited for her to speak.

"Why _wouldn't_ you be?" she cried and turned to face him. "Why don't you hate me for everything? Why aren't you telling me that I messed up? I truly did care for Sebastian, Tony. I enjoyed spending time with him. He was my friend. And I tricked him. I got him to fall in love with me, and I tricked him. What kind of person does that?"

"Me."

Ziva's nostrils flared, as did her temper.

"Tony," she warned, "Do not compare this to your undercover mission with Jeanne. I beg of you, for my sanity, do not."

He nodded.

"You're right, it's not the same. I hid from you, turned in on myself and kept secrets from you and the team. I led you to believe I was dying. I hurt you."

"I hurt you," she whispered.

He gently pulled her chin up to his eye level and brushed a tear with his free thumb.

"No, no Zi," he explained. "You didn't. Not like I hurt you. This was so different from that, and I know it, but I just wanted you to see that sometimes we do things for our job that we don't agree with. We get carried away because we love our jobs and are committed to being the best. We forget that there are others involved," he shook his head, "or rather, we pretend that there aren't others involved so that we can sleep at night. It's only a matter of time before we start to believe the lies we tell ourself. The only problem was that I actually loved Jeanne. You were so much stronger than me, and loyal. Ziva, I'll admit, I panicked that you'd fall for him, I did."

She jumped to correct him, shaking her head emphatically and grabbing his shoulder.

"No, but Tony, I did not-"

"I know," he nodded. "I know you didn't fall as deep as I did. And I was wrong for doubting you for even a second. I just know what it's like to be in a place where you can leave your old life behind. The idea of starting fresh, even if it's just a fantasy, is so inviting that you can't decide what you want anymore. And I know there's a part of you who loved who you were with Sebastian. Hell, there was a part of me that loved it when you were with him," he laughed sarcastically. "You were freer, happier...the type of Ziva I would've imagined if you'd led a different life."

He caught a few more tears from the corners of her eyes before rubbing his thumb along her cheek bone.

"I know how hard it was for you earlier, to know that we heard every bit of Sebastian's confession at his apartment. I know you felt like you were betraying him. I know you felt like you were betraying _me_ when he kissed you. But I promise you, none of us see it that way. You had to do whatever you could to make Sebastian comfortable. You had him eating out of the palm of your hand, and that's what we needed. I know it wasn't easy for you to do all that knowing we were listening the whole time, but don't think that we thought any less of you because of anything you said to him. We knew you'd do whatever necessary to finish the job," he explained. He laced his fingers through hers and gave her a hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Agreeing to go with him, knowing that you'd only use it as an opportunity to set him up, was the hardest thing for you. We didn't think, even for a second, that you'd run off with him. You love your life here too much for that. But I'm sorry you had to hurt him anyway, because I know you cared about him."

He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. Breathing in her scent kept him grounded and focused.

"But Ziva, you couldn't have expected that you'd come out of this mission unscathed. It was impossible. You're not the same woman you were when you first came here. And I love you for that. I loved the old you, but this version of you...the one who's vulnerable and caring and only wants to see the good in other people..._this_ is the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with. This is the Ziva that loves her family and her friends, even the ones she just meets, and protects them in any way she can. You're not as hesitant to show the world what a terrific person you are, and I love seeing that. I love seeing you smile more, and I love seeing the way you light up when you're with our friends. And I know I'll love you ten years from now, when our children make us want to run away to Mexico and build a boat. Through the runny noses, the report cards, and the bouts of chicken pox. You're stuck with me, Ziva. I'm not going anywhere. You'll have to try harder if you want to get rid of me, but even then I can't guarantee that I'd stay away for good."

"Never," she swore. "There will never be a time where I won't want you in my life. I am all yours, Tony. And that is just the way I want it."

He kissed her, just briefly, but let it convey the emotions he couldn't quite express. It would take some time to put this behind them, but he had no doubt that they could. He wasn't letting her go-not that easily anyway. He'd be damned if he ever let her get away again.

"I just do not know how this will all end," she sighed. "What will happen now?"

"McGee's trying to contact Sebastian's lawyer. I have a feeling Gibbs will cut him a deal, though. We all agreed that he was telling the truth. We just have to double-check the facts just in case."

Ziva felt her whole body relax. She hated the idea of Sebastian going to jail; she truly believed he hadn't known about Amsel's true intentions.

"I love you, Tony," she said firmly. "Please do not ever forget that. I am sorry that I made you doubt it for even a second. I never want you to lose faith in me ever again."

"I know you are," he smiled tenderly. "I told you that I could've been more trusting as well. I'm sorry that I let my past relationship crap affect the way I treated ours. I know it won't be easy to transition back into everything again, but I'm willing to take it slow. I want to work through it with you, like partners. We can outlast anything, Ziva. And that you can trust me on."

She smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm glad."

"And you might be interested to learn that Gibbs and McGee's faith never wavered, not even for a second."

"I'm not surprised. They're our biggest cheerleaders."

The fact that she'd placed Gibbs's name and cheerleader in the same thought caused Tony to shiver.

"Speaking of cheerleaders," he ventured carefully. "There's probably one that needs to talk to you."

She heaved a sigh and allowed Tony to pull her closer to him.

"I will. We have many things we need to discuss."

He kissed the top of her head.

"You'll figure it out. And for what it's worth, you're going to make one hell of a mom, Zi. Our children will be really lucky."

She felt a fresh batch of tears swell in her eyes. For the first time in days, they were from all the right reasons-joy, gratitude, love. She allowed them to flow freely as she sought comfort in Tony's silent embrace.

They remained in that position until McGee's rapid knocking demanded their attention. Ziva took the few seconds to compose herself while Tony unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry," Tim rushed, "but I've been looking for you guys everywhere."

"It's usually a safe bet that we're in here, McSeeker. I bet you weren't any good at Where's Waldo as a kid."

He ignored the comment-mainly because he was in fact terrible at finding Waldo-and relayed his messaged.

"Gibbs cut Sebastian a deal. He's willing to help us track down Amsel and put him behind bars. Sebastian's using his international contacts and funds to help in any way he can."

"That's good to know," Ziva remarked. Truly, it was; this was an outcome she could handle.

Tim nodded.

"He also wants you to contact PFC Downing's mother," he directed towards Tony. "She called earlier and wanted to speak with us. We think she's got information on her ex-husband."

"The one that has been missing?" Ziva inquired curiously.

She missed this kind of work; Tony had only given her snippets of their current case. Though it was mundane, she thrived on the chance to investigate-as herself, and not someone else.

"That's the one," Tony sighed. "He's been hard to track down. Guess I better find out what Mrs. Downing has to say."

McGee waited in the hall, once again displaying the intuitiveness that was often overlooked.

Tony turned to face Ziva and pulled her towards him by her waist.

"I better go," he groaned. "I don't want to leave you."

She smiled.

"Go. We have all the time in the world to get re-acquainted."

"I like that idea. Maybe I could stop by later tonight? I have a feeling you're heading home now. I don't think Gibbs would mind."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I would like that very much. And I'm going to leave soon, I just have one thing to do first."

"I'm proud of you, you know," he smiled. "I love you. And we're going to figure this all out. As long as it takes. But god damnit, I'm getting a chance to invoke my rule number five if it's the last thing I do."

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her lips.

"I'll hold you to it."

"Uh, guys," Tim interrupted. "I really don't think you should keep Gibbs any longer."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled apart from Ziva.

"You were that kid who flipped to the ending of the story, weren't you," he grumbled. "Just had to ruin the moment."

"That's enough analyses of my childhood, Freud," McGee retorted. "I'd be worried about my own life if I were you. Gibbs is about to end it."

Tony gulped and raced toward the bull pen with McGee hot on his heels.

* * *

><p>Ziva stepped into the eerily silent room, save only for the buzzing of machines and the typing of keys. It was unlike her not to play music, a dead giveaway that Abby wasn't in a good mood. Ziva felt terribly guilty for causing it, and she hoped her friend would give her a chance to apologize.<p>

"Abby."

She stopped typing and turned to face Ziva. Her eyes were blurry and her makeup had been smudged. She sniffed before offering her a weak smile.

"Hi, Ziva."

Ziva placed the Caf-pow on her desk and ignored the smell; she cast her discomfort aside to focus on mending a friendship.

"This is for you."

Abby sipped it greedily.

"Thanks," she replied quietly.

"Abby," Ziva sighed. "I'm sorry for snapping at you in the hallway. You were only trying to help. You did not deserve that from me and I apologize."

Her friend opened her mouth to speak, but Ziva nervously continued.

"I will not lie to you, though. You hurt my feelings the other day and I was not able to get over what you said."

Abby's bottom lip trembled. She lunged forward and trapped Ziva in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Ziva," she gushed. "I can't believe I said that. It was so rude of me, and I wasn't thinking, I just never realized that you'd want to be a mom. And I don't know why I'd ever needed to think about that, but I should have been more conscious of the fact that you're with Tony, and _of course_ you'd think about that stuff, and maybe who knows, maybe you'll want a chance to be a mom and I promise you I'd be there as a really fun aunt and I'm so sorry for making you doubt yourself and for being a bad friend. And I'm so sorry about everything with Sebastian and Tony, this hasn't been easy on you, but we love you so much and we were all behind you one-hundred percent."

Ziva waited for Abby to catch her breath. It seem like she wouldn't ever need to stop talking.

"I forgive you, Abby," she pulled back and smiled earnestly. "I know you weren't trying to offend me. I let my insecurities cloud my understanding. And thank you for believing in me. It is amazing to feel that kind of support."

"Of course we believe in you, Ziva," Abby scoffed. "We're a family. That's what we do."

Ziva closed her eyes and wondered why, for even a moment, she'd been willing to give all of this up. She had everything she ever needed right here.

"Yes," she smiled and felt her heart regenerating with the prospect of hope. "I suppose you're right."

Although it wouldn't happen overnight, Ziva knew that she'd be able to get over the past few months. She had the best team behind her, and the best family a woman could ask for.

And one day, if she and Tony were to ever have children, they'd be the luckiest children on Earth. After all, they'd be so spoiled with love that they wouldn't know how to feel anything else.

She let Abby chatter on about the things she'd missed while she'd been undercover. She fought the smile that continuously crept on her lips; though Abby was talking, Ziva wasn't doing much listening.

All she kept thinking about was the time it would take to invoke rule five. She had a feeling it wouldn't take Tony much time at all. And she was just fine with that.

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't want to give it away in the author's note that the team was listening in on her conversation with Sebastian, so I let Tony slip it in. <strong>

**Enjoy what's left of your time off! **


	13. Chapter 13

**I would go ahead and blame the long delay on real life, because I have a ton of things going on, but it's actually just been a nasty case of writer's block. I've really struggled to kick this back in gear.**

**Thank you for all the support and encouragement, the reviews and the alerts. I appreciate you sticking around for this behemoth of a story. There are only two chapters left after this, so it's almost over.**

**Keep in mind that we're now almost three months ahead. **

* * *

><p>The months that followed were both busy and productive as the team scrambled to track down Amsel with Sebastian's much-needed help. It hadn't been easy at first, and it took time to gain their trust, but Sebastian had done everything he could to rectify his grievous mistake. Ziva especially felt grateful for his participation—in their time together, both received the closure necessary to move on with their lives. Little by little, Ziva felt the guilt of hurting the people she cared about lift from her shoulders. While she knew she'd never entirely forgive herself, Tony and the team did their best to convince her that she needed to let go.<p>

Tony and Ziva felt themselves falling slowly back into their old rhythm; they owed it to their relationship not to rush things, and they'd done a great job of taking their time. It was, after all, the first moment in months that they were free to be themselves without the weight of an undercover mission on their shoulders. They could finally breathe again, and they weren't taking a minute of that time for granted. Since they first brought Sebastian in for questioning, they'd thankfully found their groove as a couple once more. In fact, the only topic left undiscussed was their once enthusiastic venture of finding an apartment together. The time never seemed right to re-visit, but Tony spent many nights devising ways to slip it into the conversation.

He got to work a little later than he'd anticipated, but he blamed the three-car pile-up around the corner for that inconvenience. He shivered as he remembered the number of gurneys at the scene; it was far too gruesome for seven in the morning. He hoped at least some of the people survived the carnage.

"You are late."

His head jerked towards the sound of her voice as he entered the bull pen.

"Got caught behind that accident," he whistled. "Did you see it?"

She nodded sadly.

"McGee's stuck, too."

Tony huffed and stood in front of her desk, leaning forward.

"Why did he call you and not me?"

"Which one of us usually arrives on time, Tony?"

He had to admit that she had a point. He toyed with the flag on her desk and cleared his throat.

"So, you still up for dinner tonight? If we get out early, of course. I haven't canceled the reservation yet."

She nodded without looking up from her computer.

"Yes. I have been dying to try the coq au vin at Marcel's," she replied dreamily. "I hear it's fantastic."

He couldn't help but smile at the excitement in her voice. He, too, had been looking forward to their date, but a string of intricate cases left them exhausted and he figured she'd be unwilling to see it through. They'd spent the past week crashing at each other's apartments the minute they walked in the door. He felt they needed some romance back in their life. It didn't hurt that he was hoping to broach the subject of new apartments after a glass or two of her favorite pinot.

"Cross your fingers for a day filled with paperwork then," he warned. "Or else we'll probably end up with another case that keeps us here for the next seventy-two hours, knowing our luck."

She feigned horror and crossed her fingers. He couldn't help but laugh at her playfulness, and the two chatted for a little longer before he finally sat down at his desk.

"Where's Gibbs by the way?" he asked as he turned on his computer.

"Downstairs with Ducky. You just missed him when you came in. I have a feeling he'll be up any minute now."

They settled into a peaceful silence, lulled by the sound of tapping keys, until McGee blew into the room like a hurricane and barreled straight into his desk. He tossed his backpack over the chair and doubled over at the waist as he regained his breath.

"Did he notice?" he wheezed.

Tony nodded solemnly.

"He said you're doing double the paperwork for being late today."

Tim paled.

"Did he?"

"Nope," Gibbs chimed in as he entered and tossed a stack of files on Tony's desk. "But DiNozzo is. Better get to work if you want to leave here anytime soon."

Tim couldn't help but make a grin smugly, and Tony countered with one of his own. Ziva rolled her eyes at them, but she couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips. Tim had proven once again to be a terrific friend these past few months. She'd taken him out to dinner to thank him for being there for Tony during her undercover mission; Tony had admitted that Tim had been his voice of reason even through his biggest moments of self-doubt. She would never forget Tim's kindness, and nor would Tony.

"Gibbs," she cleared her throat, "I am stepping out at lunch today."

He and Tim shot her curious looks, but Tony continued working; he knew exactly why she'd made the request. Her expression remained determined until Tim resumed his paperwork and Gibbs finally grunted in approval. He raised an eyebrow and she nodded in response to his silent question. He nodded himself and got back to work.

"This is something I have to do," she whispered as she typed. "And I cannot put it off any longer."

* * *

><p>She felt her stomach twist with anxiety as she opened the door to the small cafe. It didn't take long for her to spot him tucked away in the far corner, nose buried in his newspaper. Her legs suddenly felt heavy as she approached him.<p>

He glanced up at her and smiled, but the sadness in his eyes was impossible to overlook. She sucked in a breath as she greeted him.

"Hello."

Her voice shook; she wondered if he noticed.

"Special Agent David," he responded curtly, "please sit."

She obeyed wordlessly and watched the way he painstakingly folded his newspaper and tucked it into his inside blazer pocket. He removed his reading glasses and placed them on the small table. She swallowed the lump in her throat when he crossed his arms and leaned forward. His lips formed a tight line before he finally broke the silence.

"I think saying I'm terribly disappointed would be an understatement."

She bowed her head and nodded.

"I've worked very hard in my life. Now, I choose to surround myself with good wine, good company, and good conversation."

"Frederic-"

He shook his head and continued, rearranging his stance. His fingers tapped idly on the tabletop.

"I don't like being tricked. And you took advantage of my kindness."

Ziva took advantage of his pause and jumped in.

"And for that I am deeply sorry. I had to do my job, but I feel terrible that you were involved. I really do care for you, Frederic." She reached forwardly timidly and placed a hand gently on his. "You became a wonderful friend. I'm so sorry that you had to be a part of this."

Frederic recognized the genuine remorse she expressed, and he seemed to soften at the tone of her voice. He could no longer hold onto the resentment. He sighed and took a drink from his tea.

"Sebastian is moving back to London. I shall be sad to see him go."

Ziva nodded.

"He has proven to be a great help to NCIS. He helped us track down the man responsible."

"I've known Sebastian for many, many years. There was no way he would have willingly helped a terrorist."

To Ziva's relief, she could hear no malice or accusation in his tone.

"He cares too much, too quickly," Frederic added. "It his best and worst trait."

"He saw only the best in me," Ziva laughed sadly. "Perhaps that was his downfall."

He felt the last of his anger thaw at her words. He leaned forward and tipped her chin up affectionately. He smiled genuinely for the first time since she sat down.

"There is nothing wrong with telling the truth, my dear. He saw the good in you because it actually exists. I hope you never lose sight of that."

She wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. You were so wonderful to me, and I will never forget your kindness."

"If you think that for one moment that _I_ would forget the intoxicating charm of Valentina Ferrara, you are sadly mistaken," he snorted.

He took another sip of his tea. She felt herself choke up once more and cleared her throat.

"I never wanted to hurt him either," she whispered.

He nodded understandingly.

"He knows that. He's heading back to Europe and I think it's good for him to get his mind away for a while, sort himself out." He smiled sadly. "He will be all right, in time."

She stayed for a short while longer before Frederic announced that he had to leave. They shared a hug, the kind filled with the finality of a goodbye; both knew this was the last time they'd see each other.

"Take care of yourself, Miss David," he smiled. "And just remember: you are nothing short of extraordinary, my dear."

She kissed him on the cheek and watched him leave. As the door shut behind him, she couldn't help but feel that the door had finally closed on that stressful chapter of her life. She felt the weight ease off her shoulders and she heaved a sigh.

It was time to let go.

* * *

><p>"Tony,<em> please<em> stop singing."

He looked up from his desk innocently.

"Hmm?"

Tim narrowed his eyes at him in confusion.

"You've been singing "Strangers in the Night" for the past fifteen minutes. I had to cut you off at the third 'Dooby-dooby-do.'"

He flushed momentarily and shrugged.

"Can't help it, Sinatra was an absolute genius."

Tim studied his friend for another few seconds before clearing his throat. Tony seemed too jumpy and distracted.

"Is everything okay?"

"Do you have something against Ol' Blue Eyes, McMusic? Because I'll have you know that he's a legend. He set a standard that some musicians only dream of meeting." Tony snorted. "And if I hear one more crackpot say that Harry Connick, Jr. is the next Frank Sinatra I might start kicking ass and taking names."

"Tony-"

"I mean, Michael Buble's not bad, I have to admit I like some of his songs, but the kid's no Sinatra. Because there's only one Sinatra. You know?"

"Tony-"

"'My Way,' 'New York, New York,'" he shivered. "The way he belts those out, it just can't be replicated."

"Tony-"

"And I know, I know, Paul Anka got it from the French song but really, Frankie baby just took it to a whole new level."

"Tony!"

McGee hopped off his chair and bounded towards Tony's desk.

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

Tony laughed uncomfortably.

"I didn't realize you were that unhappy with a lesson in good music."

Tim sighed.

"That's not what I mean and you know it. What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

He looked away, favoring his monitor over Tim's probing gaze.

"Ahh," Tim nodded. "It has to do with Ziva's lunch date."

"It's not a lunch date," he hissed. "It's a...meeting, I guess."

"With who?"

"Whom."

"_Tony_."

He rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled dramatically. He really didn't want to get into this now.

"She's meeting with Montagne. Saying goodbye," he grunted.

"I see."

"She's been doing so well," Tony lowered his voice. "I don't want her to fall apart again."

He nodded, sensing that his job was only to listen at this point.

"I can't watch her beat herself up anymore. She needs to be able to put this behind her."

"I agree," Tim added carefully.

Tony looked back up at him and laughed; the sound felt foreign to his ears. Was he going crazy?

"I'm freaking out, aren't I?"

Tim smiled gently.

"You're worried about her. I get it."

Tony nodded in relief; he really did appreciate that the younger agent understood him. He'd come to lean on Tim these past few months, almost as much as he had during that summer, the one he pretended didn't happen. The one that left him a shell of his former self.

"She needs some peace," Tony whispered. "She deserves it."

Tim hummed a quiet agreement. He spun on his heels and headed towards his desk as Tony spoke again."

"I'm going to ask her again tonight."

He froze in place. When he finally regained control of his movements, he turned to face Tony once more.

"Do you mean..."

Tony paled, shaking his head fiercely.

"No, no," he choked. "I didn't propose."

Tim laughed awkwardly, still shook up from the misunderstanding.

"I thought you were about to tell me you asked her to marry you."

"We're not ready for that, McMatrimony. Don't think we'd ever be ready for that. Don't think that's really us, but that's besides the point."

Almost immediately after the words came out the images formed in his mind: slipping a simple ring on her finger, her smile as she said "I do", and hearing the words that they were joined forever, gaining the final proof of permanence that they both craved. Odd feelings washed over him, and he found himself losing his train of thought.

"Tony?"

He shook himself out of his reverie, one that he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to let go.

"I meant I'm going to ask her to move in together," he finally answered. "We talked about it, before the op started. We were pretty excited about it, too."

"That's great," Tim smiled. "I'm happy for you, Tony."

"Yeah, but we haven't talked about it since. I don't know how to bring it up again. Don't want to spook her, but I also don't want her to think I forgot or something." He scratched his head and sighed. "It's just...never been the right time, I guess."

He clapped Tony on the shoulder, unable to find words that wouldn't evoke some sort of sarcastic and uncomfortable response from his vulnerable friend. He was genuinely happy for Tony, but he knew he didn't have to say it- Tony would know. After all, he'd matched them together years ago and immortalized them in his bestselling novels. It was obvious.

Tim's cell echoed in the bull pen, effectively ending their moment of man-love.

"Abby wants to know if we want burgers from that new place," he called out to Tony from his desk.

"The one with the crispy fries or the one with the really good sauce?"

Tim repeated the question back to Abby.

"The one with the good sauce."

Tony groaned.

"Fine, but only if I get the chipotle sauce this time. You stuck with me the ranch and it was terrible. And get two cups. I like extra sauce."

Tim dutifully repeated the order and gave his own instructions. Gibbs re-entered the bull pen the minute he'd hung up, and panic seized him by the throat.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. We didn't order you anything."

Gibbs stared down his younger agents and took not-so-secret pleasure in watching them squirm. After five full minutes of sheer torture, he finally grunted a reply.

"Abby already called me."

The twin sighs of relief were enough to make him crack a smile.

"Keep working, DiNozzo. That paperwork won't finish itself."

"On it, Boss."

They'd managed to go seven whole minutes before their silence was interrupted once again by Tony's humming.

_"Something in your eyes was so inviting,_  
><em>Something in your smile was so exciting,<em>  
><em>Something in my heart,<em>  
><em>Told me I must have you."<em>

Gibbs hid a smirk behind his hand. He knew the song, of course, and a part of him wondered if his senior field agent would have the balls, even subconsciously, to continue singing. And when Tony _did_ resume his vocal stylings, he rolled his eyes, amused at his predictability.

_"Strangers in the night, two lonely people_  
><em>We were strangers in the night<em>  
><em>Up to the moment<em>  
><em>When we said our first hello."<em>

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked. "That's enough."

"Sorry, Boss."

* * *

><p>"I hope you know that I'm going to try some of that."<p>

The waiter shared a sympathetic smile with her before walking away with their menus and assuring that he'd be back momentarily with their drinks.

"Yes, Tony. I am well aware. But you are only getting a bite or two. I'm very excited about my dinner."

"That had to be a new record, by the way. A two-second sweep over the menu and you hit him with a definitive answer. I hadn't even made it through the appetizers yet."

She rolled her eyes.

"Because you get caught up whenever they offer both steak and shrimp in the appetizer section. The idea of steak twice in one meal is too tempting for you to overlook."

"It's like Christmas come early, Ziva. It's a very beautiful thing. And I've decided I'm getting the salad. I think I'm springing for the cheesecake for dessert and I don't want to feel guilty about it."

She burst into laughter and he huffed.

"What? I'm trying to watch my figure."

"That's why you ate your entire lunch today, plus the rest of Tim's."

"I'm a growing man, Ziva. I need my nutrients."

She decided to give him this one and said nothing.

"But seriously, you decided so fast. Are you sure you know what you want? And are you _sure_ you didn't want a starter?"

"I'm very sure," she smiled. "I am trying what is supposedly their best dish, how can I go wrong? And I am positive about the starter as well. If I decide I want one, I can have some of yours."

She laughed at the sheer look of horror on his face. She reached across the table and patted his hand reassuringly.

"I am just kidding, of course."

"Thank God."

The waiter returned with their drinks and re-filled their bread basket, leaving as silently as he came.

Tony took a moment to stare at her while she enjoyed the first sips of her pinot. Her hair gathered loosely at the nape of her neck, gracefully cascading down her back. Her eggplant-colored dress clung to every inch of her skin, and despite the fact that it had three-quartered-length sleeves and went straight across her collarbone, he wasn't sure he'd seen a sexier dress. He often wondered where she found them, or if she had them secretly created for her by little sewing ninjas hiding in a cave somewhere. There was no way that women could just buy dresses and look _that_ good in them. There had to be some other force behind it.

"See something you like?"

She traced her pinky around the rim of her glass and slowly sucked the drop of wine off her finger. He couldn't help but lick his lips, another manifestation of his neglected sex drive. He'd gotten to the point where he could no longer hide his gaping admiration. He reckoned that one day his jaw would just unhinge entirely.

"I'd say so," he grinned lasciviously.

She scoffed at his feigned indifference.

"I have a feeling you will be singing an entirely different tune the minute we leave here. Perhaps a more enthusiastic one, yes?"

He groaned.

"You're killing me here."

She clucked her tongue and pouted before she broke into quiet laughter.

"I am sorry, very sorry," she crooned. "I am suffering just as much as you. Perhaps we should get dessert to go?"

His head whipped back and forth in search of the waiter.

"Forget it, let's get everything to go. Hell, we don't even need to eat." He frowned momentarily. "Okay, well, let's at least eat the appetizers here. I don't think they'll keep well on the ride home."

She laughed once more and laced her fingers through his.

"Good things come to those who wait, Tony. I know patience has never been your strong suit, but tough it out for a while longer, yes?"

He gave her hand a quick, pulsing squeeze- a silent apology for trying to cut their dinner short. He knew she was just as eager to get home, but tonight he got to see the endearing side to Ziva that liked to be romanced, and he wasn't going to deny her anything she wanted. Especially if meant the sex would be even greater because of it. He'd do anything to help his cause—and make her happy, of course.

And happy she seemed. She'd been light and carefree since they left work. Her good mood was intoxicating, and he found himself smiling just because he was near her. It wasn't often that her exuberance overpowered him like this—she definitely had her pleasant moments, more often than not, in fact—but tonight he felt she really lived up to her name. He wasn't sure if it was her lunch with Sebastian or the fact that she was getting a night out, but he needed to figure it out; he wanted to replicate that feeling for her all the time. This was his favorite Ziva of all.

"I think I can handle that," he smiled back. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I think I've told you that already."

She rolled her eyes but returned his smile.

"Yes, Tony. Three times already in fact. However, I do not get tired of hearing it."

"Good, because I'll probably forget and tell you another three times or something. My mind's not as sharp as it once was."

"Oh yes, your old age is really showing tonight."

He couldn't even pretend to be hurt because the affection in her voice rang through so clearly that he felt his cheeks flush. Her open admiration knocked the wind out of him; he wasn't sure he'd ever get over the fact that _he_ was the one she was looking at like that, that _he_ was the one responsible for getting her voice all mushy and and her eyes all soft. _He_ was the reason she dressed up, tucked away her gun and badge, and strapped on high heels. He realized in that moment that he was also the reason she was so happy—that being with him on a proper date after a long week of work was the cause for her lightheartedness—and it humbled and flattered him like nothing else. He doubted that he'd ever forget what a lucky son-of-a-gun he was, and he promised in that moment to spend the rest of life showing her that.

"You're staring again," she smiled. "So much so that you haven't even realized your appetizer is now sitting in front of you."

He shook his head and gasped when he saw the delicious plate in front of him.

"Come to Daddy."

He dug in and cut a giant piece of steak and dropped it on Ziva's empty plate.

"You really _do_ love me," she awed.

He winked at her and sawed off another piece for himself; he wasted no time enjoying it, and the groan of pleasure when the meat hit his taste buds was loud enough to make her laugh.

They spent the rest of their meal in the most pleasant conversation he'd had in a long time. The ease with which they interacted was just more proof that they belonged together both in and out of the field. Something had changed today, something very real, and he felt like he finally had the courage to ask her again. He had a strong feeling that she'd say yes.

They ordered their desserts and she waited till they were alone at the table before clearing her throat.

"Today went very well," she spoke carefully. "Sebastian is heading back to London. Frederic and I said goodbye."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze across the table.

"I'm sorry."

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Don't be. It went...very well," she admitted. "I finally feel like it's over."

The relief that bubbled inside him came out in a shaky laugh. That might have been the single best thing he'd heard in a while.

"I am so happy to hear you say that," he admitted. "I was pretty worried that it wasn't going to go well today, and you'd come back even more upset than before. But when you did come back, and you _didn't_ look like you wanted to bludgeon someone with the nearest office item, I figured that it wasn't a huge disaster. And then you never brought it up, so I figured you just didn't want to talk about it."

She nodded.

"You were right, I did not want to talk about it earlier. I needed to let it sink in, that I am finally done with that whole part of my life," she sighed. "I'm sorry they were hurt, though. I will always be a little sorry for that, but I cannot beat myself up any longer. I was doing my job. A job that I love very much, a job where I get to work with my family every single day. I cannot keep carrying this on my shoulders. It is time to let go."

The smile he gave her lit up the room.

"Here's your dessert to go, and here's the bill whenever you're ready."

Tony fished for his card and handed it to the waiter, eager to get another minute alone. As soon as he did, however, he lost his nerve and couldn't find the right words.

"Are you alright, Tony?"

"Fine," he smiled.

"Well then," she purred. "I suggest we better get going. We have a lot to get done tonight."

Tony nearly took the waiter's hand off when he snatched back his card in an eager flurry. He thanked John for his outstanding service and almost cheered in victory when he left them alone for good. Ziva followed him towards the door and laughed at the sound he made when his cell phone rang loud in the restaurant.

"You have got to be kidding me," growled as they exited. "This better be good, Palmer."

Ziva's mood changed as soon as she registered the shift in Tony's countenance. No longer was he bubbling with anticipation—now only worry registered in his eyes.

"Just keep calm. We're on our way."

He hung up the phone and rubbed his face vigorously.

"Tony, what's happened?"

"Breena's in labor."

"But it is still early," Ziva pressed.

"Two and half weeks, so not early enough that they have to be worried, but enough that they're both rattled. They thought they had some time still."

She nodded understandingly. Jimmy wasn't the best under pressure, and she could only imagine how frantic he must be at the moment.

"Are we heading to the hospital now?"

"Raincheck on the steamy bedroom sex?"

She laughed quietly.

"This is far more important," she replied as they thanked the valet and hopped into the car. "And besides, who said it was going to be in the bedroom?"

Tony purred, "Why Ziva David, you saucy minx."

She threw her head back and laughed. As soon as he started the ignition she panicked and grabbed his shoulder.

"Tony, don't leave, I think I forgot my phone in the restaurant."

"Go check and I'll whip the car around again, I can't stay parked here. If you can't find it by the time I'm back then I'll re-park it and we'll look together."

She hopped out and ran back into the restaurant. He heard her bag vibrate just as he got ready to pop in a cd, and he couldn't help but laugh.

He reached into her bag to silence the call, only to see that it was from Abby.

"Hey Abs," he answered. "Ziva stepped out for a minute."

_"Tony did you hear? Breena's in labor!"_

"Yeah, we're leaving the restaurant now and heading over."

_"Ducky's picking me up on the way. I'll see you there then. I have to call Tim now!"_

He said his goodbyes and tossed Ziva's phone back into her bag as he parked outside the restaurant again. And he knew, God help him he knew, that what he was about to do was wrong, but it caught his eye and he had to peek.

He took the folded section of newspaper from her bag and quickly scanned the words, an entire section circled with black marker.

_For rent. 2 Bedroom, 2 Bathroom. Dupont Circle. Gym and garage parking available._

_For rent. 2 Bedroom, 1 1/2 Bathroom. Georgetown. No pets allowed._

_For rent. 2 Bedroom, 2 1/2 Bathroom. Georgetown. Gym, garage parking. Pets allowed._

He couldn't hide the smile on his face even if she wanted to. She'd been thinking about all along. She hadn't forgotten or changed her mind. She wanted a future. And she still wanted it with him.

He saw her anxious face as she left the restaurant and he tossed the newspaper back in his bag. This could wait. Now that he knew they were on the same page, that they were reading each other's minds without even trying, he could wait. There were more pressing matters at hand. But Christ, he felt relieved. So relieved that he could have danced in the middle of the street and shouted it from the rooftops.

"I am so sorry, Tony," she gushed and climbed in. "I can't find it anywhere!"

He reached over and planted a searing kiss on her lips. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled.

"It was in your bag."

She swore in Hebrew and her shoulders sagged in relief.

"Thank God. Now, on to the hospital, yes?" she smiled.

"Your wish is my command, mi'lady."

They drove off into the darkness, headed for the craziness awaiting them, and he couldn't help but smile once more. He was getting it. He was getting everything he'd ever wanted, with the one person he wanted it with.

"I love you, you know," he said quietly.

"I know," she chirped. "I love you, too."

"Good," he nodded. "Now, let's get the bets going. At what point tonight do you think Palmer will faint?"

Her brow furrowed in concentration.

"This is a tough one, I will need to think it over first. I'll let the others place theirs before me."

He laughed.

"That's my sneaky ninja."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope it was worth the wait.<strong>


End file.
